A Bleeding Sunrise
by B3y0nd
Summary: An Unavoidable War comes to the world of Ninja, divided between the forces of the Five Villages, the wrath of the Akatsuki, and a more sinister foe, who can reach beyond the bounds of time and even the grave. Will Konoha Survive?
1. Prologue

The man was led into the room. He knew everyone inside - with the exception of one, he had trained them all.

The room was an enormous semicircle. Against the flat wall stood three titanic statues. The Kazekages. The greatest of the man's peers. He had always admired them. Now, though, he found his view challenged.

The other half of the room was filled with a high semi-circular table. Behind it sat five faces.

Four were ANBU Taichou, the leaders of small Black Ops teams and some of the most respected, if secretive, ninja of Sunagakure. None spoke. The desert village had long taught the value of a closed mouth.

Overhead, a ceiling fan slowly beat at the air, as if it too had been sapped of its strength by the sweltering desert heat. It's movements stirred the pale white hair on the man's neck. His hands twitched briefly to scratch the itching hair, but the steel bonds on his wrist prevented the movement.

Without a word, the two figures beside the man tightened their grips on his arms. Their faces were hidden behind white masks, but it did not matter. The man knew their faces as well as he did his own. He could hear the quickening of their breath. He could see the tightening of their eyes through the tiny holes in their masks. He could feel the pulsing of their fingers on his bare arms. He could smell their fear.

Like the four ANBU Taichou at the table, these two ANBU soldiers had also once been his students, and his subordinates. Now they were prepared to kill him - though they were not quite so capable of the act as they had let themselves believe.

The man in the center of the table stood to his feet. His white and blue robes resettled over his short, but powerful build. He was the only ninja the prisoner had not taught. They were peers; once, they might have been called brothers. But the blow of a forced hand had come, and now they faced each other down. Now, one was a prisoner, branded a murderer and a traitor; only one of the claims was true. The other man had become the Yondaime Kazekage, and like the three men who had come before, he was powerful. He held no fear for the bound man who was shoved bluntly beneath the fan overhead, into the light and the scrutiny of the five silent gazes.

One of the five figures at the table stood as well. He was younger than the rest; perhaps seventeen or eighteen years. Nevertheless, he commanded respect, and power. He had been the prisoner's favorite student, and perhaps his closest friend, if a traitor had such things. The boy spoke in a calm and collected tone, reading off a small black scroll, but his eyes betrayed his anger.

"You are accused of murdering the Sandaime Kazekage. At this time, Sunagakure has no reason to believe you regardless of whether you claim guilt or innocence. You will be executed here and now, in this very room. With your death, the last of your clan's blood will disappear. The names of your clansmen will be erased from our records - denied, abandoned, and without hope of redemption. Your name, however, will not be forgotten. It will be cast in darkness and blood, so that every ninja who ever walks the face of this world again shall know in exact detail the fate of those who cross Sunagakure." With slightly too fast a motion, the young man closed the scroll.

"I didn't kill him." The prisoner muttered, more to himself than to the council. Nevertheless, they heard.

"You didn't?" The boy's fist slammed down onto the top of the table. The polished marble surface cracked. His voice broke into a shout. "You've been an assassin. You've been a blackmailer. You've destroyed more lives than any of us cares to remember... but I thought you were at least loyal." He reached behind his chair and pulled out a katana with a blade no less than two meters in length. For a moment, it seemed to ripple as if made of water. Then a row of spikes emerged from the sides. "Yours will be a painful death."

As the figures on either side of him moved to grab his arms, the boy vaulted over the table and stood before the prisoner.

"Kensei!" The Kazekage bellowed, standing to his feet. The young man stopped and turned. "You will control yourself."

After a moment's silence, the young man answered. "Forgive me, Arashi-sama." The spikes faded back into the blade as the boy went back to his seat.

"Now... do you deny these charges?" The Kazekage questioned the man in chains before him. The man's voice was silent, as his piercing white eyes stared back at his leader. " Do you have any proof whatsoever to back your claims of innocence?"

"_Kazekage-sama_…" The man whispered, with obvious anger in his harsh tone. "You and I both know exactly who killed the Sandaime. You-"

"Silence! Sunagakure will be better off without you." The robed, red-headed figure turned to the ANBU who stood on either side of his prisoner. "Execute him."

The man sighed gently. Then, with a flick of his wrists, he popped off the steel rings holding his hands.

A pair of Naginata swung toward him. The prisoner wrapped his fingers just below the blade of one weapon and snapped the wooden handle just below it. The severed blade made an improvised knife, which the man rammed into the heart of the still-armed guard. Warm blood splashed onto his bare, calloused fingers. Even before the dying guard had time to fall to the ground, the prisoner spun to deliver a devastating kick to the throat of the other guard. Gasping for air, the surviving guard fell backwards, and the prisoner looked up at the table. Kensei, the young ANBU Taichou, leapt again toward the prisoner. Wasting no time, the man turned toward the doors. Moments before the fatal collision of skin and steel, he was suddenly gone. At the end of Kensei's enormous katana, a single white hair fluttered slowly to the ground.

The young man ran toward the door.

"No, Kensei." The Kazekage ordered from his seat. "You need not waste your effort. He has no supplies, no equipment. Soon, the desert will devour him." Arashi, the Yondaime Kazekage, rose slowly to his feet and walked toward the doors of the room. "You will learn something today, Kensei. You'll learn about destiny. My parents named me Sabaku no Arashi because of my nature. Like a desert storm, I destroy my foes. That is how he will die." The doors swung open for a moment, and then the Kazekage was gone.

Kensei was left standing alone, wondering what he felt about the death of his teacher.

* * *

Days passed quickly in the beating sun. Sand crunched under the bloody, cracked soles of the man's feet. Wind ripped through his tattered shirt, which he wore slung over his shoulders like a cloak, with the sleeves wrapped around his face. They did little to stop the burning, and the stinging of the sand in the storm. The storms were merciless. He knew they were Arashi's doing - the Kazekage hoped to bury his bloody secrets beneath the dunes. The man could barely see a meter ahead. The sun beat down through a veil of flying sand, a brutal master over the man. He clutched his side. bleeding from the scraping of the tiny grains as he stumbled across dune after dune. Behind him, a steady trail of blood left a clear path back to the place he had once thought of as home. Still, he dragged himself on, thinking of his future, and his past. He had the opprotunity for a new life, although that was not how he saw his predicament. The light seemed to burn through his skull, and in pain, he remembered his students.

_The class waited patiently in their seats. Each stared at the front of the classroom, awaiting their instructor. A dull creak echoed from the back of the room as the rusty hinges of the classroom door opened. One by one, the children turned to face the entrance.  
_

"_Greetings." A man muttered as he walked to the front of the room. At once, every eye of every student was locked onto him._

"_Where is the teacher?" One girl asked the combat-ready ANBU officer._

_The man smiled, sliding the two belts off of his shoulders and setting them on his desk. His two small swords rattled slightly._

"_I am your teacher." He responded, unzipping his hot, tan-colored tactical vest and setting it on his desk as well. Absentmindedly, he smoothed the folds from the white, martial-artist style shirt and robes that covered his body. With a quick yank on the black sash that wrapped around his waist, he finally looked up at the auditorium full of students. _"W_ho knows my name?"_

The man stumbled, his knee falling to the burning sand. His face contorted in pain as he pulled himself to his feet. The sand had slipped out from beneath his shoes, and the burning of the sand shattered his memory instantly. As he continued his forced march, he reached back into the pouch on his back that held his food. His hand searched around, and he counted his supplies. He had only a single cake of smashed rice and two vials of water. Sighing, he continued on the little strength that still remained. He wanted the food now, but he would need it later. To take his mind off his need, he turned his thoughts back to his students.

_"Don't you know?" __The class stared at him, as if his request were ludicrous. _"_You want to be ninja, but you can't get this trivial bit of information? Doesn't anyone know?" The man pinched his brow in mock annoyance when he got now answer. _"_Very well. Perhaps I will give you a hint." The man's right hand slipped into the left half of his robe-like shirt. When it came out, he held a porcelain mask. It was black as night, smooth and unmarked. Without word, he placed it over his mouth. It covered his jaw and the base of his nose, but nothing more. One by one, the student's jaws dropped in awe._

"_You…"_

"_You're our Sensei?"_

"_No way!"_

Finally, the man saw his salvation. In the distance, he could see a glimmer of light. A few more steps, and storm suddenly ended. In the distance, he saw a figure in a black cloak. Normally, the cold calculations of the prisoner would have questioned the figure's motives, wearing such a garment in the desert heat. In desperation, all the man thought of was a chance, however slim, at rescue. He tried to shout out at the figure in the distance, but his voice had long since left him. Then, in an instant, his fate turned for the worse. His vision began to speckle with black dots and his knees failed. To him, his fall to the sand seemed to go by in slow motion

_If only I could see the students once more. _He thought to himself. Then the darkness engulfed him.


	2. The Man from the Desert

A dark and starless sky hung quietly over the border of the Earth Country. Just within that border lay a small town, well lit and populated for the late night hour. A tall figure, cloaked in darkness and masked in ivory, walked amongst the crowd. It had the scent of the prey it had been hunting for weeks. A tiny book pressed against the figure's side, but it felt no need to look down. It had memorized the entry on its prey. Fast, agile. Cunning. Stealthy. Powerful. Dangerous. But he did not know the figure; that was his weakness. One strike would end it all.

Half a dozen steps in front of the figure, the prey also made his way through the crowd. He was not particularly tall or otherwise noticeable in figure. His choice of clothing was easy to pick out in the night like this, but would have faded into a daytime crowd like a shadow. The white sleeveless shirt, probably silk, revealed narrow shoulders with small, wiry, dense muscles. The bottom of the shirt was tucked into a _Heko- Obi_, the massive belt of skilled warriors with high ranks in society. It was thick, masking the presence of any weapons he might be carrying. The hunter saw it as a primary target. Below it, the man wore slacks in the style favored by most Taijutsu specialists, also in a brilliant white.

He stood out amongst the bright colors of those who celebrated whatever festival it was that kept the town up so late. Paper lanterns illuminated his silvery-white hair, which hung down the back of his head to the top of his collar. Peddlers and men marketing games in street-side stalls called out to him, thinking him wealthy. One by one, he pushed away their wares. The hunter wondered just where he was headed.

He seemed too lightly armed for a weapons master. This troubled the hunter, as the Bingo Book had been quite vague. And worse yet, it had been wrong before. That error had nearly cost the figure three fingers.

The man suddenly ducked under the hanging partition that marked a restaurant booth. His seat was to the right of a particularly tall man in costumed wardrobe, impersonating the Daimyo of the Earth Country. On the prey's left, two seats took up the space to the wall. He tapped twice on the counter, presumably making an order, although the noise of the crowd drowned out his words. A moment later, a bowl of some steaming dish was placed in front of him. The man set three small coins on the counter, broke his chopsticks, and began to eat.

The hunter moved into the stall next door, and struggled to hear its quarry over the sounds of the festival. It made out only a handful of words.

"I wonder where Kensei is right now…" The man muttered under his breath, to no-one in particular.

* * *

Halfway across the world, deep in the desert, laid Sunagakure, the Village Hidden in the Sands. It was a hot day in the desert, scorching the figures walking the streets in tan robes and wide hats, who hoped to shield themselves from the sun. Among them walked one boy who stood out. He dressed in a loose tan shirt and thick pants, like many of the village's ninja. His shirt, however, was covered in a heavy breastplate of polished steel. It gleamed in the sun, and glowed with heat, though its wearer seemed not to notice. He had bigger issues on his mind than the heat.

He had been called away from a search for a particularly troublesome corpse by a group of figures in white. Assassins, hand picked by the corpse that the boy had been searching for. He hadn't needed to hear their words to know what message they brought: a summons to the office of Sunagakure's master, the Yondaime Kazekage.

It had been the boy's pleasure to return to his home village after nearly a week of combing the dunes, searching for a desiccated skeleton that had once meant a great deal to him. Still, he was apprehensive. He had not completed his mission, and the Kazekage was not known for his forgiveness; he was known for his temper.

The massive sandstone sphere that served as the village's brain was decorated with hundreds of circular windows, and a pair of glass doors. Both the sandstone and the glass were Sunagakure trademarks - tough and valuable, yet plentiful and easily replaced. In recent days, Sunagakure had begun to treat its ninja the same way.

Behind the glass doors, a young secretary looked up. After the death of his wife, the Kazekage's weakness for women had become far more open. She was smart, but the boy knew all too well she had not been chosen for the post because of her mind.

"Kensei-sama." She greeted him. "Kazekage-sama is waiting for you."

Satetso Kensei nodded, and walked up to a pair of mahogany doors, flanked by two armed, masked guards. Without hesitation, Kensei handed them the pouches of kunai and shuriken from his belt. The guards nodded, and pulled open the door.

"Kazekage-sama." The boy called Kensei fell to a knee on a small rug before a rounded mahogany desk.

"Ah… Kensei." The white robed man did not even turn in his chair. "I'm glad you came."

"You summoned me?"

"Always straight to business? Just like your Sensei."

"I am not like him. I will not betray Sunagakure_._" Kensei found himself angrily blurting the words at his superior. After a moment of shame, he shook his head. "Please forgive my tone."

The Kazekage laughed slightly. "I didn't mean to insult you. You are quite the ninja, Kensei. The most loyal of my supporters. Open the box on my desk."

Kensei looked down. The box was small, wooden, and made of the same grain as the Kazekage's desk. He hadn't even noticed it walking in. Slowly, with the carefully hidden hesitance his master had taught him, he flipped open the lid. In the center of the blue, padded cloth lay a black porcelain mask. Kensei knew it all too well. He had seen it many times before, though never wore it himself.

"Sir?"

"Congratulations on your promotion, Kensei. I will call you again when I need you."

* * *

The man at the counter sighed to himself and shook his head to dispel the thoughts of the place he had once called home. His empty bowl had been taken by the tall but portly chef who now addressed him. "Pardon me, sir, but you look a bit down. Do you want something… stronger?"

The mysterious man nodded. "Stronger tea."

The chef seemed confused, wondering if he patron had misunderstood his offer. "I have some _Sake_."

"I don't drink." The man responded.

"Oh." The chef shrugged, and the man went back to his drink. "Sir... if you'll forgive my asking... what is wrong with you eyes?"

The eavesdropping hunter found itself intrigued by the statement. The Bingo Book's picture was old, true, but it portrayed the man with ordinary blue eyes.

"Nothing." The man answered with anger in his tone, getting up to leave. "Thank you." His voice was terse and commanding, but lacked any genuine gratitude. \ He dropped a handful of coins on the counter as a tip before walking away. After a moment, the masked figure rose, continuing to stalk its quarry.

The man never glanced over his shoulder, or overtly showed that he had noticed his hunter, but the hunter suspected that he knew. It might have been in the way he carried himself, or the calm steps he took, or perhaps even simply the fact that he never turned around. The man made his way out of the town, walking out into an open clearing. The masked figure waited at the edge of the village until he was nearly out of sight, and then advanced behind rocks, tall grass, and small trees.

After a few minutes, the man came to an open field where the noises of the village festival were too quiet to garner attention, and the lack of lighting meant the starry sky was struggling to illuminate even the man's bright white garb and hair. In the center of the space, his feet simply stopped. He stood with his back towards the shadowed figure, as if waiting for it emerge. Finally, the figure rose from its hiding place, throwing back its hood to reveal long, straight, black hair, and the hilt of a sword.

"You are Tohiryuu Ryusando?" The voice was definitively female, which surprised the man. Despite his foe approaching, he still left his back to her. The man's mouth twitched up at the edges for just a moment. To those who didn't know him, it might have been mistaken for a smile.

"Yes." He waited for a few seconds, expecting the woman to answer something, and then finally asked his own question. "You?"

"Ink." She reached up to her back and drew her blade. Ryusando turned slowly. Somewhere, in the darkness of the eyes of her mask, he saw a flash of light. She wore a _hunter-nin_mask, although he was too far away to identify her village. She saw his eyes - blank white orbs that glowed in the starlight like the eyes of a cat. Ink slid her hand into her sleeve as she began to walk toward him, and then broke out into a sprint as her fingers wrapped around her weapons.

Three shuriken flew from her fingertips, arcing toward him. Ryusando did not move until both she and her weapons had reached him. In a single, lightning fast movement, he slid his fingers into the holes in each of the shuriken. He pocketed two, and brought the blade of the third up to block the sword. Ryusando felt his arm pop at the elbow. With a quick burst of chakra, he healed the wound. Ink drew a kunai with her free hand, stabbing at Ryusando. He dove backwards.

That was the first glimpse he got at the full sword. Suddenly, it seemed a miracle that his elbow had only popped, rather than shattering. The blade was easily a meter and a half, probably longer, with another half meter for the handle. Quickly, he rammed his hands together.

_Tiger, Dragon, Rat, Ox, Ram, Bird_

He slammed his palms to the ground. When he rose up to his full height again, he held in each hand a long, silvery katana. Ink's mask hid any emotion she might have had at the new turn of events. With almost impossible reflexes, she flipped backward to dodge as Ryusando's blade swept toward her. At the moment she landed, she rammed the tip of her sword into the ground. Having freed her hands, she began her own seals. Ryusando tensed his own hands as she molded her chakra, apparently unwilling to stop her.

_Ox, Monkey, Bird, Ox, Horse, Bird, Rat, Tiger..._Her seals continued, but Ryusando stood motionless, observing her actions with cold apathy. Something about his lack of reaction troubled her, as if he somehow was somehow suspecting her every move.

"Suiryuudan No Jutsu!" She shouted, putting on an air of confidence. An enormous stream of water quickly took on the form of a serpentine dragon.

Ryusando watched it coming, and waited until the last moment to roll to the side. It shot past him, but to his surprise, it turned back on him again. His eyebrow creased in annoyance. His fingers wrapped together around the handles of both his katana, and he formed easily as many seals as Ink in barely a half-second. "Raiton: Raikou Katana Jutsu!" Both his swords crackled to life with blue wrappings of electricity. As bolts of lightning jumped between the blades, Ryusando thrust them both into the eyes of the approaching beast of water and chakra. The dragon roared as it glowed with lightning. Ryusando removed both his katana, and pointed them at Ink. The massive creature, now crackling with lightning in its watery depths, turned on its master and creator.

Ink ripped her own blade out of the ground. Ryusando noted its black, jagged texture as his opponent took it in both hands and leapt blade-first into the maw of the creature. As her blade ripped through the watery throat, the creature fell into mere water, soaking the grass and dirt of the clearing into a swampy marsh.

Ink smiled beneath her mask. She had the advantage in the mud. But as she charged at Ryusando for another attack, he spoke.

"Don't bother." He muttered, blocking her attack.

"Why not?" She asked, bringing a wide swing against his left side. If he tried to dodge, he would slip in the mud and fail against her greater physical strength. If he blocked, the force of the blow would overpower his footing and send him to the ground for a killing blow.

When she executed her attack, however, Ryusando choose a third option. Leaping into the air, he carefully planted his foot atop her sword, and calmly stepped off the end as its point fell into the ground.

"You can't win." His words were not prideful, but merely a statement of fact. Ryusando didn't see Ink's form rise up out of the mud behind him, but he smiled as the blade was rammed through his spine. A moment later, the mud copy fell back into its natural form, and the true Ink approached.

"Really?" Ink asked sarcastically. She was then picked up and thrown nearly forty meters backward by the subsequent explosion of lightning. She slid across the mud, unable to land on her feet from the shock that the electrical surge had delivered to her nerves. When she came to a stop, her back was soaked in dank, thick, uncomfortable wetness. She pushed herself up on her elbows just in time to see Ryusando flicker from some unseen hiding place, landing mere meters before her.

"Raiton Bunshin No Jutsu." He explained. Ink growled beneath her mask as Ryusando planted a foot firmly atop the flat of her sword. "Surrender."

Ink knew she couldn't defeat his Ninjutsu. The time had come for a change of tactics. In a single motion, Ink channeled her chakra into her elbows, using a single solid smash to push herself to her feet. Her hand stretched out to her sword, and a massive claw of water rose up from the mud to claim the weapon's handle. With surprising force, it threw the weapon into Ink's waiting hands, simultaneously costing Ryusando his balance. She then rammed her hands together around its handle for two seals. A _Hare_followed a _Bird_ and her preparations were done. Her body flickered, leaving her hovering over Ryusando's head for a brutal attack. Ryusando took a small step to the side, parrying her blow with one of his katanas as he attacked with the other. The sound of slashing blades masked the quiet crack of metal.

Ink's masked face seemed almost taunting as she knocked away Ryusando's counterattack. Separated from its summoner, the katana slid across the mud, and Ryusando dismissed it with a puff of smoke. Ink lifted her blade, only to bring it down again on Ryusando's remaining katana. This time, the thin blade shattered into a thousand tiny pieces of metal.

Ryusando channeled some of his little remaining chakra to his feat for a powerful leap backwards, dodging another slash from the hunter ninja's sword. While still hanging in midair, he placed his hands together for another, slower set of hand seals.

_Ox, Bird, Dragon, Bird, Dog, Tiger, Dragon_

He finished the last seal just before his feet hit the ground. "Hiton: Bakudan Tenpi No Jutsu!" Ryusando's eyes' glow faded for just a moment. Then all was light, bright and shining. A golden orb erupted from Ryusando's hands, masking the glow of the stars in the night sky. Ink rammed a hand over her eyes, but it was too late. The damage was done. Her vision was gone, and she felt a kunai pressed against her throat.

"You lose." He muttered.

Ink sighed behind her mask, dropping her weapon. "Finish it quickly, then." She whispered grudgingly. "Please."

Ryusando's right eyebrow shot up barely half an inch, though the motion was lost on Ink's blinded eyes. "What makes you think I'll finish it at all?"

"Don't toy with me." She spat. Ryusando pulled his weapon away from his foes neck, sliding it a pocket on the back of his belt.

"I won't kill you, Swordsman of Kirigakure."

Ink saw an opening in his stance, but she hesitated to pick up her sword. He had spared her life, and somehow, the man intrigued her. "Who are you?" She couldn't help but ask. Staring at the back of his head, she couldn't see the stressful creasing of his mouth.

"Just a tired man… I used to be more." He responded cryptically. With that, Tohiryuu Ryusando continued his long slow walk out of the village.

* * *

Ink landed at the edge of the ocean a few hours later. It was a long swim back to her home, and she wasn't looking forward to the reprimands she would receive for a failed mission when she returned.

"Ink-sama?"

Ink turned in surprise. She recognized the voice, and found herself wondering what a fellow Hunter-nin was doing so far out of Kirigakure's territory. She didn't bother asking, though. Not asking questions was a policy that had kept her alive when too many of her peers had died. "I couldn't get him."

"I'm very sorry to hear that, Ink-sama." He responded sarcastically. "What do you think the Mizukage will say?"

She growled at the base of her throat, ripping off her mask in the same motion as she spun to face the man. "Damn it, Sendo…" Her voice trailed off as she watched as the world warped around her. The rocky hills and cliffs of Earth-country disappeared, as did the ocean which was now behind her. All was inky darkness.

"Kokuangyou no Jutsu."

"Sendo, how dare you?"

She heard him laugh, somewhere nearby."What do you see now, Ink-sama? Is your best friend here to save you now?"

Ink gasped as a kunai stabbed into her right thigh, and she fell to her knees. She could still feel the sand beneath her, the blood on her pants, the mud caked to her back; but nothing was there for her to see. "We come from Kirigakure… bloody Kirigakure. The Mizukage gave me my orders, Ink."

Ink screamed as a kunai slid into her belly, at the base of her lowest left rib, though no one was around who cared to hear her. She could feel the blood slide over her tongue as she struggled to breathe.

"Why does he…" Ink panted, swallowing a ball of blood. "… want me… dead?"

"You failed. I can say no more, and I don't want to die for treason. Goodbye, Ink-sama."

She heard the sickening, crisp sound of air slipping over the blade of a kunai, and braced herself for the pain. Then a strange noise surprised her entirely. It came as a soft, muffled explosion just in front of her, and was followed by a crash of steel on steel.

Light returned to the world slowly. She first saw only blurs - the tan of the sand, the green of the trees, the blue of the ocean, and a man in black and white.

"I thought I might find you here." His voice muttered.

"Ryusando! Why are you…?"

"I came to find out why the Mizukage wants me dead."

She gasped for breath again as Ryusando approached. "I… something about a bounty."

"Money?"

"I… don't know." Ink coughed up a spatter of blood, painting Ryusando's face red. He didn't seem to notice.

"You do know." Ink stared into Ryusando's face, as he looked down at the wound in her leg.

"Someone offered… something. Not money. Something the Mizukage couldn't get on his own. That's… all I know."

"Now… why did the Mizukage want to kill you?"

"I… don't know." Her pause was not from blood, but hesitance. Ryusando's ears detected the difference, and he slowly pressed down on the still open wound on her leg. Ink tried to ignore the pain.

"Don't lie to me." Ryusando ordered. "Why?"

"I disobeyed a direct order. He punished me by sending me…" She hacked again, and Ryusando's right arm took on a bloodied appearance. "…after you. Suicide mission."

Ryusando grunted again. "What?" Ink asked, taking offense at his response.

"Do you want to kill him?" The silver-haired _Shinobi_ was deadly serious. Ink thought about this for a moment.

"You're… insane." Then the darkness of the world returned.

* * *

Kensei sat down on the large bed amidst the luxurious office of the Sunagakure ANBU Sotaichou. As the new commander of the desert village's Black Ops, he was entitled to certain luxuries. The ebony décor of his two rooms highlighted this effect. One was a bedroom, containing an enormous bed with two bed stands, a lamp, and three bookshelves overflowing with volumes on anything the commander of the Black Ops could want. Jutsu. Enemies. Political history. Poisons. Medicine. These topics and a thousand more surrounded the room. Having seen enough, Kensei returned to his work.

The main office was an ebony desk, a padded chair, and two stiff black seats for guests. The walls here were lined with more books, and with maps, tables, and records. An enormous round window, a single ceiling fan, and a deep black cabinet completed the room. The room was perfect, but as Kensei sat down at the desk to go over a thick recruitment roster, he couldn't help but feel sickened by the wealth of the place.

_This was the luxury we gave him? Disgusting._

He absentmindedly slid a kunai from his right sleeve into his hand as he heard the door creak open across the room. "Yes?" He called, wondering who was visiting so soon after he moved in.

"Kensei-sama."

_Sama? Oh, of course._ The boy, barely nineteen, was completely unaccustomed to being addressed so formally, especially by a man who was clearly his elder by at least ten years. Trying to keep his mind on the situation, Kensei looked up. "Come in. Have a seat." The young Sotaichou moved to the ebony cabinet, which he opened slowly. Inside were the finest beverages money could buy. Kensei thought it an odd collection to belong to his predecessor, as the man refused to drink. "Care for something?"

"No sir." The seated man answered. Shrugging, Kensei set out a glass and a bottle of plum wine before closing the cabinet again. "Now, forgive me. You are…?"

"My name is Derade Intaka, Sotaichou-sama. I am the Taichouof the Seventh Squad. The Tigers."

_Seventh Squad… what was Seventh Squad?_ Kensei quizzed himself in his mind, but the answer would not come. That was another of his greatest challenges - memorizing the entire system. He was expected to know every member of the village's vast ANBU forces by face and name - by memory. It would take a great deal of time before that expectation could be met.

"I see… well then, Intaka-san… what is it you require?"

"We've just returned from a mission." The captain explained. Kensei rapidly tried to remember the protocol for these situations that his sensei had used. After a moment of awkward silence, he poured his plum wine into its glass and resolved to abandon the thought of his predecessor.

"What was your objective?"

"We were scouting the western border for the traitor."

_Of course. Seventh Squad is Border Patrol and Recon. So… this poor man took over my job. _"Did you find the corpse?" Kensei's eyes narrowed slightly at mention of the man, and he downed his drink."

"Well… in a sense, sir."

"What does that mean?" Kensei asked, returning to his seat. "Don't beat around your meaning, Intaka-san. Is the body gone?"

"No, sir. Actually, we had a scent team out searching, and they found a blood trail. The problem is… we believe he survived."

"What?" Kensei shouted, slamming a fist against the wall. A handful of framed maps fell from the points on the wall.

Intaka recoiled at his superior's fury. "What would you have us do?" He asked, in a timid voice.

Kensei took a few deep breaths to calm himself, and banish his anger. It wouldn't do any good for him to take it out on the messenger. "I'll inform the Kazekage. Take a few days to rest and train. I'll call you if I need you. And send up First Squad."

"Of course, Sotaichou-sama." Kensei couldn't help but notice how quickly the man left, or how softly he slid the door to the office shut.

Still infuriated, Kensei slumped down in the large chair behind sensei's_…_no, _his_desk. "Why did he do it?" The Sotaichou asked himself.

"Do what?"

Kensei's hands both held kunai in barely a half-second as he spun the chair around and jumped to his feet. "Gaara-kun?" He asked, his heart beating rapidly as he calmed himself.

"Yes?" The Jinchuriki boy answered, as an opening in the sandstone wall of the building slowly closed behind him

"What are you doing here?" Kensei asked coldly.

"I was looking for Sensei."

Kensei sighed, sitting back down in the chair slowly. The Kazekage's despised son, Jinchurikiof the One-Tailed Shukaku. Gaara was barely eight, but still a force to be reckoned with; at least a C-rank nin before he had even graduated the academy. "Sensei is dead." Kensei spat.

"What?" Gaara half-asked, half-cried. His wide, raccoon-ringed eyes slowly crinkled and formed tears.

Kensei didn't care. "He's dead. Go home, Gaara. I don't have time to talk, least of all to you."

The young Jinchuriki cried softly to himself as he turned and placed a hand on the sandy walls of the building, next to the office's massive window. The sand parted, making a door for him, and he stepped out into midair in the night. A platform of his sand carried him slowly to the ground as his makeshift door closed behind him.

"This job will kill me." Kensei muttered when the child was gone, pouring himself another drink.

* * *

Ink awoke in a strange bed, in a dark room. Somewhere amongst the darkness, someone else was moving. As memories from her past flooded back to her, Ink bolted upright, only to wince and suck in a tightened breath as the wound in her side burned again.

The lights in the room flicked on, revealing Ryusando slowly packing two backpacks atop a dresser. The only other features of the room were a small round table and a tiny bathroom.

"Damn it, Ryusando!" Ink screamed, pulling the bed sheets tightly around herself.

"What?" The ninja turned with a calm voice, staring at her with his mysterious, blank eyes.

"You… you…" Ink struggled to issue forth the words.

"I didn't do anything to you." The ninja in white turned back to his bags, anticipating her accusation.

"You took off my clothes!" Ink screamed. "You expect me to believe that?" She grabbed a bedside lamp and brandished it like a club.

Ryusando glanced over his shoulder with annoyance written all across his countenance. "Stop shouting. I had to treat your wounds."

Ink let her fury subside for a moment. "So…" She lifted up the covers to find herself in brand new lingerie. "That's all you did?" The cynicism in her tone was obvious.

Though Ink didn't notice, Ryusando rolled his all-white eyes. "Yes, Ink-chan."

"Chan? So now do you think we're in some sort of relationship?"

"Calm down." Ryusando ordered. "You'll reopen the stitching. Now get dressed." Ryusando cocked his head toward a small bathroom. "We need to leave soon."

Ink groaned, and rose to her feet, walking slowly and deliberately toward the bathroom. On the way, she set down her deadly weapon.

Ryusando made an rule of avoiding romance. He knew more dead ninja killed by it than he cared to remember. Nevertheless, she was beautiful. Tall, and lithe, with a smooth face that matched her dark hair. He couldn't help but notice the tips of her canine teeth protruding just over her lower lip, but he knew better than to ask. She was possessive of her body in a way kunoichi were trained not to be; Ryusando's best guess was that something had happened in her past, which brought him to another of his rules. He wouldn't ask her about her past, because he wouldn't want the same questions asked of him.

"What the hell is this?" Ink asked a moment later, still scantily dressed, and holding in her hands a deep purple dress with a low neckline and no sleeves.

"Your outfit for our next mission." Ryusando answered.

"Where the hell are my fatigues?"

Ryusando grunted. "You'll blend in with that."

"I blended in perfectly well before."

Ryusando laughed sarcastically for just a moment, solely to make a point. In a fury, Ink stormed back into the bathroom and slammed the door. In the suddenly quiet room, Ryusando reached beneath the bed, pushed on a board indistinguishable from the other boards of the bed frame, and retrieved a small metal briefcase from a closed compartment.

Mere moments later, Ink stepped out, wearing her new dress. "Now tell me why I shouldn't kill you."

Ryusando turned back to her. "Because you can't." Ink shook her head and walked toward the door. "You'll die." Ryusando warned.

Ink stopped with her hand on the doorknob. "What? Did you put some sort of seal on me, or…"

Ryusando snapped, and his voice grew low and harsh. "For the last time, Ink, I did absolutely _nothing _to you other than heal your wounds and replace your dirty clothes. I don't intend to blackmail you. If you want to leave, I won't stop you, but I won't be able to kill the Mizukage on my own, and he won't just let you get away. Eventually, he'll send someone you can't beat."

Ink pressed her hands into her hair and groaned in agitation. "Arrgh! Fine, Ryusando-_kun_. What is this brilliant plan of yours? Just walk up to Kirigakure and kill the Mizukage?" Ryusando grunted as his only reply. "I can see why people want you dead." Ink pulled at the waist of her dress, trying to find a more comfortable fit. "You're from Sunagakure, right?"

Instead of answering with words, Ryusando looked straight into Ink's eyes, and pulled up the white bangs hanging over his forehead. Beneath them was a black tattoo of a stylized hourglass, the logo of Sunagakure.

"So why'd you leave?"

"Did I ask you about your past?" In Ink's silence, he opened the small briefcase, revealing the most money Ink had ever seen.

"How did you get all of that?"

"I saved it up." Ryusando answered

"But that's nearly thirty years' salary, even for a Jonin."

Ryusando didn't comment, instead closing the case and setting it aside. Next, he drew out a black, long sleeved jacket, which he threw on over his Tactical Vest.

Ryusando grunted, ignoring the question. Instead, he drew from the backpack a black wooden case. He lifted the lid with cautious care, revealing a set of glistening weapons: six kunai, four shuriken.

"What are they made of?" Ink asked

"Glass." He muttered, sliding the entire set into a steel-lined hip pouch and clipping it to his belt.

"What? Glass?"

He closed his eyes slowly. "No more questions."

"If I'm going to rely on you, I need to know that I can trust you, and you need to trust me."

He glanced up at her, a slight anger finding its way into his voice. "Trust? That's what this is about? A shinobi doesn't need trust. Only a fool needs trust." With that, he turned back to his work.

"You can't truly believe that." She muttered under his breath.

"I didn't… once." Ink gasped. How had he heard? "Then I learned. Every truly powerful shinobi and kunoichi believes that. I reached the peak of my power _without_ that belief, but it was not enough."

"What do you mean?"

Ryusando sighed, and Ink realized she had hit a sore topic. The Sunagakure missing-nin put the case of money into his backpack, and grabbed a long grey cloak, which he threw on over the black jacket.

"You have a cloak? Why weren't you wearing it when you went into town? The white is easy to follow."

He hid a smile. "You've been following me for three days. I wanted to lure you out."

"How did you know…?"

He turned, looking straight at her. "What did your Bingo Book say about me?"

"You're ex-ANBU. A missing-nin. S-Class."

He nodded. "That's why."

Ink and Ryusando proceeded out of the hotel room, down a small set of stairs, and up to a small counter. Ryusando handed a small stack of bills to the man sitting behind it, who tucked them away, smiled enthusiastically at his patrons, and bid them farewell. Outside the hotel, it was morning. Ryusando turned left on the wide road, walking to the west.

"Where the hell are you going?" Ink asked. "The ocean is the other way."

"We're not going to the ocean."

"The Mizukage is across the ocean."

"It takes three people to kill a Kage. We're headed to Amegakure."

"I was looking through your _Bingo Book_." He tossed it too her without turning. It bashed into her ample chest, but she managed to catch it. "Page forty-seven." She flipped open to it quickly.

"Who is he?"

"The third shinobi we need to perform my plan." Ryusando muttered, hiding his true reasons.

"There are better choices than him." She muttered. "Wouldn't we want a loyal Shinobi from a Village that dislikes Kirigakure? Missing-nin are hardly trustworthy."

Ryusando glared at her for a moment, and Ink suddenly remembered that theywere both also Missing-nin.

"We can go for him, or take our chances trying to convince the Kazekage to declare war on Kirigakure. I'd rather not start a war."

* * *

"He's coming here, Sasori." Kakuzu muttered, approaching the hulking figure that sat on a towering rooftop in Amegakure. "Your old friend, Ryusando."

"Why?" The elder of the pair asked, turning slowly to face his companion. "What could he possibly want here?"

"I don't know." Kakuzu took a seat on the ground beside the immense puppet master. "But I will kill him. In Sunagakure, he is worth over three-hundred million ryo."

"If you tried, he would kill you, Kakuzu." Sasori answered. "He is not the sort of foe you're meant to fight. He would make a priceless puppet."

"I wouldn't bet on it. I can take him." Kakuzu's pushed himself to his feet. "We need the money for this little organization. I will go prepare."

"You won't. I wanted to kill him as well. As much as I wish I could have him for a puppet, he has a higher purpose." Sasori turned to stare off into space again.

"What?" Kakuzu asked, annoyed, as he began to walk away.

"Leader-sama wants him alive. Go get Konan for me. And don't keep me waiting."

"Impatient bastard…" Kakuzu muttered when he was out of earshot.

* * *

**Suiryuudan No Jutsu - Water Style: Water Dragon Technique**

**Raiton: Raikou Katana Jutsu – Lightning Style: Lightning Channeling Sword Technique**

**Raiton Bunshin - Lightning Clone**

**Hiton Jutsu – Light Style Techniques**

**Hiton: Bakudan Tenpi No Jutsu – Light Style: Exploding Sun Jutsu**

**Kokuangyou no Jutsu – Journey into Darkness Technique**


	3. Red Moon Rising

Amegakure was not a pleasant village to inhabit. It was slimy, greasy, polluted, and grey. Litter lined the muddy dirt roads in the lower parts of the city, where street vermin struggled to find a balance between the falling water above and the rising floods of the canals below.

It was in these dank passageways that Ink now walked, shivering in her new dress and wishing she hadn't been sent after Ryusando. Of course, the white eyed shinobi was nowhere to be found. Somewhere in the city, he was off performing some other secret task, leaving her to recruit their third member. For her, that meant waiting in the uncomfortable rain and wind, feeling completely uncomfortable in the strange fashions of the miserable village. Without her sword on her back, she felt totally alone and exposed. Luckily, there wasn't much chance of another Kirigakure hunter-nin tracking her, so the threat of attack was small indeed.

A little boy approached her in tattered clothes, clutching a letter bigger than his hands. "'ello, miss. I… er… are you Ink-sama?"

"Yes?" The little boy clutched his paper tighter to his chest. Trying to put on her friendliest face, she knelt down to look him in the eyes. "You don't have to be afraid." It was a hard thing to convince him of, given what she tended to think of as her 'fangs'. They were the other reason she felt exposed - Ryusando had kept her from her mask.

"I… I got a message here for you." Reaching out with her unarmed left hand, Ink took the paper from the child.

**_Ink-sama;_**

**_I will meet you in the small clothier's shop at the west end of the village when the rain stops. Do not be late._**

**_Come alone._**

**_-Obindo Redai_**

"Thank you." She told him, patting him on the head and handing him a pile of bills. He gasped to himself at the amount – it would feed his family for a year. "We never met." Ink added.

He was too stunned to speak. Instead, he glanced around quickly, to make sure that no-one was watching. Then, tucking the money into his shirt, he ran off.

_When the rain stops? _Ink wondered to herself. She looked up, seeing only gray clouds above the enormous spires in every direction. _Does it ever?"_

* * *

Ryusando sat in the corner of the small bar, his feet resting onto the table in front of him. His only lead to his betrayal was somewhere in this village. Amegakure was an up-and-coming power; Ryusando suspected they might gain a Kage title in the next decade. That power gap, though, left them with a hatred of the five greater villages.

Ryusando had utilized his Henge No Jutsu to hide his tattoo, and darken his hair and eyes. So far, the disguise technique was proving successful.

Like Ink, he was waiting for a contact. Unlike Ink, he wasn't assured that his contact would lead him to a friend. Despite the veneer of a napping drinker in the corner, his nerves were tense, and his body tightened in preparation for any attack.

"Hello." Came a sweetly seductive voice beside his ear. He didn't open his eyes. He hadn't heard her approaching. That meant she was a kunoichi. Judging by the age of her voice, probably a Chunin, maybe twenty-five years old.

"Yes?" He felt the figure sit down next to him. That was when he opened his eyes. She had blue hair. That was the first thing he noticed, although he later discarded the fact. She wore a stunning black dress, which fit her form perfectly. Like a black and white sketch, it gave a perfect outline, but left the fine details to the imagination. What caught his attention the most, though, was the origami flower in her hair.

"You're an Amegakure kunoichi?" He asked.

"You could say that…" She answered, laying a hand seductively on his shoulder. In the back of his mind, he smiled. That was all he needed to know. With careful precision, he pulled a single glass kunai from the pouch on the back of his belt, while being careful to keep the armed hand hidden from her view.

"Your name?" He asked with a gruff, business-like tone. She drew back, just a few inches, but she removed her hand from his shoulder, placing it on her chin lightly. A slight blush appeared on her face.

"You want to know my name already? Can't we just stay strangers?"

Ryusando laughed at that. Strangers were much easier to deal with. It kept romance simple. In Amegakure, though, Ryusando couldn't just accept simple. "No."

She pouted slightly. "You're no fun. I'm Konan."

"Was that so hard?" He asked, a false smile spread across his face. She sighed, pulling the flower from her hair.

"Take it." He quickly scanned the paper for words, or the distinct markings of an explosive tag. It had neither, so he gently took it and slid it into his cloak. He would find somewhere not to be seen before he read the message inside.

"Thank you very much, Konan-chan."

She smiled, blushing again. "I'll… maybe see you around?"

"Of course." He responded, laying back and closing his eyes again. To his surprise, she grabbed onto the back of his head and pulled him into a deep kiss. After an intense moment, she stepped back. "Goodbye, stranger."

* * *

Ink walked the alleys, trying to maintain a calm, natural demeanor. It was hard, being so far out of her element. As a Kirigakure kunoichi, she hadn't ever dealt with a mission quite like this one. Her usual method of infiltration consisted of shadows and silent assassinations, not diplomacy and disguises. She made her way west as the rain started to slow, wondering how long she had before it would stop completely.

* * *

Kensei dove from rooftop to rooftop. At noon in Sunagakure, the streets were crowded by civilians running from shelter to shelter. The sun did not bother him. The prospect of being late for his first meeting with the Kazekage, though, did. He had been training in the vast deserts of Wind Country when he received the new. It took him all of seven seconds to pass the messenger on his way back to the village.

Finally, he reached the massive sandstone orb that held the village council, the Kazekage'soffices… and his own. He was by far the youngest ANBU Sotaichouto ever be appointed, not just within Sunagakure, but across the entire world. That would have been a bit of pride to a normal shinobi, but Kensei really couldn't care less about his record. All that mattered was proving his loyalty to the village.

_The first thing that Sensei taught me… hypocrite…_

Exactly eleven jumps later, Kensei entered the Kazekage's lobby. The young girl looked up, but didn't even bother telling him that the Kazekage was ready. When he approached the mahogany double doors, the guards didn't request his weapons. No one stopped the Sotaichou from seeing the Kazekage. Inside the doors, though, Kensei still knelt in respect to his master. "You called, sir?"

The village leader looked up from his paperwork. "Yes… I meant to talk to you earlier, Kensei."

"Forgive me, Kazekage-sama."

The man grunted. " I was wondering if you had any progress in your investigation of the traitor."

"We tracked him to a small village in Earth-country. I have all of First Squad after him."

"The assassins?" The Kazekage asked.

"Yes, sir. Our best."

"Not quite. You are. In any case, continue."

"He left there yesterday. We are tight on his trail."

The Kazekage stood up, and walked around his desk to look Kensei in the eye. The young ninja was slightly taller than his superior, but the presence of the man's title seemed to change that reality, if only Kensei's mind.

"I don't think I need to tell you what will happen to our village if someone else kills him first."

"No sir." Other villages would pay fortunes for the chance to examine his corpse. They could extract his secrets; learn the jutsu of Sunagakure. In the Kage's Councils, the Kazekage would be a laughing stock, too incompetent to control his own men. The village's reputation would be destroyed.

"Good. That's why I'm deploying you."

Kensei's eyes widened suddenly. "Kazekage-sama, with all due respect, First Squad was designed for this kind of situation."

"You've seen him fight, Kensei. You know his tricks. That's the sort of advantage you need to kill him. That and your Kekkei Genkai should finish the deal."

"Of course, Kazekage-sama." Kensei turned for the door.

"One more thing."

"Yes?"

"While you out in the world, don't let anyone know your rank."

"Sir?"

"Dress as a hunter-nin. If the other villages get wind that our Sotaichou has been deployed, it will mean that we've gotten desperate. I'd prefer we keep Sunagakure looking strong to the outside. Do you understand."

Kensei bowed. "Of course, Kazekage-sama. I will return when it is done."

* * *

From the streets of Amegakure, one can look high into the air for an unobstructed view of the sky. Rarely, if ever, is the view used, though. Rain clouds are all that there is to see. But amongst the skyline, jutting out from the rising buildings, are pillars, billboards, and a half-million hiding places for a ninja to be hidden from those below. The man who was once called Yahiko used none of these holes. Instead, he stood calmly, gazing down into the thousand-foot drop that loomed only inches from his feet.

"Pain. That man is still in the tavern. The woman is traveling to the west end of the village." A voice muttered from over Pain's shoulder.

"The day that I do not know where my foes are is the day that our plan fails." He uttered in response.

"Even your rain cannot fall indoors." She countered.

"Is he powerful?" Pain asked, changing the subject.

"He resisted my advances." Konan noted, neglecting to not the enjoyment she had derived from the situation. "He seems powerful, but not a match for you. His chakra-pool is too small for a shinobi of his caliber. There's something hidden in him, but I cannot say for certain what it is."

"Very well… I will face him. What did Sasori have to say about him?"

"Nothing that we did not already know. Shall I open your room?"

"I can beat him quite easily as I am."

"If you're sure, my lord."

Pain caught a hint of apprehension in the woman's voice. "Why do you care?"

"I would hate to lose you again, Pain." She answered.

"You've never lost me once… Only Yahiko."

The woman nodded curtly, and the rain ceased. As if on cue, she burst into a thousand white butterflies. One carried a single raindrop. Pain saw, and thought that she had taken her paper form too soon. His Rin'negan had been dry to long to recognize a teardrop.

"Fly back to him." The self-proclaimed god of Amegakure ordered. "I will be there soon."

* * *

Ink finally found the shop, only three minutes after the rain ceased. It was a grungy place, with tattered mannequins wearing faded, torn clothing in the display windows. Slowly, she opened the doors, walking inside.

"Hello, beautiful." A man behind the counter noted. He wore a solid gray shirt, with three buttons at the neck. His hair was rough, short, and black. What grabbed her attention were his eyes, or rather, their invisibility. Across his face, from the top of his nose to his eyebrows ran a thin sheet of white cloth, slightly stained with blood, which covered both eyes. "Looking for something nice to wear?"

Ink released a guttural groan of agitation. "I was looking for a friend."

The man laughed. "If you're looking for a friend, I hope you brought one with you. I certainly don't have any... at least, not for sale." He smiled at her, in a frightening and sleazy sort of way.

"I'm afraid not."

"Good. You did come alone. I wasn't expecting you to listen."

"Then you are Obindo Redai."

"The one and only. Last survivor of the Obindo clan. That dress looks good on you, by the way. Ryusando chose well."

Ink lifted an eyebrow, wondering how he could see it at all. A different question escaped her lips, though. "You have a Kekkei Genkai?"

"Of sorts. It _was_ an eye technique." The blind ninja explained.

"All right…" Ink answered. "Can you see all right with that blindfold?"

He smiled wider, in a way that sent shivers down Ink's back. "All too well, beautiful."

"My name is Ink." She snapped.

"If you say so. Now where is Ryusando?"

"He went to go after some weapons or something. All he said was that we'd find him on the top level by a bar."

Redai laughed. "Of course. There's only one bar on the top level." The blind ninja rose to his feet. He wasn't tall, but neither did the term short truly fit him. His blindfold looked up at Ink, but she could tell he outreached Ryusando. He had broad shoulders, but an otherwise skinny frame, covered in thick muscles that cleanly contrasted Ryusando's dense but wiry body.

He walked slowly over to her and reached out to pinch her. Ink grabbed his hand in her right fist and pushed her left hand against his elbow. "Try that again…" She whispered in his ear. "And I'll break your arm off."

The humor disappeared from Redai's face. "You Swordsmen sure are a serious bunch. Fine. Let's go get our glorious leader, so we can finish the job. I'd like my paycheck as soon as possible."

He grabbed onto her right hand, slowly stepped out of her grapple, and led her out into the street again.. A gust of wind blew her dress, sending another set of chills down her spine, and dislodging the letter from Redai. She lunged to grab it, but it evaded her on a second gust.

"Don't worry about it. It's just a scrap of paper now. Let's go find Ryusando." Ink nodded, letting Redai lead the way. Three blocks down, the paper blew into an alleyway, where it folded of its own accord, taking the form of a butterfly.

* * *

Ryusando smiled when Konan arrived again. now leaned outside the bar's door, with his eyes open. The glass kunai was still hidden in his left hand, and her note in the pocket of his jacket.

"So, stranger… what's your name?" She asked, leaning up against him.

"Ryusando." He muttered gruffly, trying to ignore the pressure she was exerting.

She smiled at him. "That's an interesting name. What's it mean?"

He grunted. "Sun Dragon."

"Really? That's beautiful. Anyway, I was just thinking… I've got a friend who I thought you should meet. If you'll come with me."

Ryusando slid a second kunai up his sleeve, along with the two shuriken and small summoning scroll he had stored there earlier.

"Lead on." He whispered as he stood up slowly.

* * *

Ink and Redai reached the top of a final set of stairs and rounded a corner, only to literally run into the man they were looking for. "Ryusando! There you are. And with such a beautiful… Konan?"

"Redai." She muttered without the obnoxious sex-appeal she had forced into her voice for Ryusando. Redai's hand moved to the bandage over his eyes as Konan burst into a cloud of paper butterflies and disappeared in a thousand different directions.

Ryusando turned suddenly.

"What is it?" Redai asked beginning to turn around. Halfway through Redai's motion, Ryusando dove forward, pushing Redai to the ground before tackling Ink and falling with her.

"What's wrong with…?" Her sentence was cut off by a blast of lightning that crackled overhead. Ryusando jumped to his feet. A few meters in front of him stood a man in a black robe, embroidered with red clouds. His flaming orange hair and piercings were distracting, but Ryusando immediately saw the real threat - his grey, ringed eyes.

"Ink. Catch." He ripped off the weapons pouch from his belt, tossing it to her. "Whatever you do, do not lose that. Now get out of the village." Through that whole speech, he had not moved his eyes to his companions.

"Who is he?" Ink asked.

"Just run!" Redai shouted, and the pair darted down the streets of Amegakure once more, leaving Ryusando to a mysterious foe wielding a long extinct Kekkei Genkai.

* * *

"Who are you?" Ryusando asked.

"A village master. A ninja. A god. Pain." The mysterious ninja answered. answered. His voice was the rumble of thunder on the horizon, and it echoed from all directions. His eyes narrowed, and Ryusando was flung backward by some unseen force. He stopped with a painful crash against a metal streetlight.

"You're with Sasori, aren't you?" Ryusando asked, pushing himself to his feet.

"You tracked us here? Impressive." Pain observed. "Not that it will do you any good." He flung a dozen shuriken at Ryusando, who deflected them with kunai he pulled from his sleeves. "We are called Akatsuki."

Ryusando remembered the parting words Sasori had left him at their last meeting. _"The Red Moon is Rising."_

"What do you want?"

"You won't live long enough to know."

Ryusando flung both his kunai, with perfect aim at Pain's Rin'negan eyes. Whatever their abilities, they were the greatest threat to the outmatched ninja. Pain didn't bother dodging. When the weapons were mere millimeters from his precious eyes, they simply stopped, and then fell at his feet.

"Is Konan one of you as well?"

"The origami woman?" Pain asked, before laughing. "She's a Chunin. She plays her part well, though."

Ryusando focused on his enemy.

"What is your name?" Ryusando asked, trying to draw out a better answer than the enigmatic man's introduction.

"Pain." Ryusando grunted. He hadn't expected a real name, and he was in no way disappointed. The same invisible force suddenly pulled Ryusando toward the man robed in darkness. As he flew, Pain drew back his fist. The resulting blow shook Ryusando's skull, and he fell to the ground at Pain's feet. The Akatsuki ninja lifted his foot, stomping on the center of Ryusando's ribcage, producing a sickening cracking noise.

"You cannot win." Pain stated, and his voice seemed to warp reality, forcing it to be the truth. Ryusando was not afraid. He rolled to the side when Pain moved to stomp on his neck, ignoring the pain of his cracked sternum. With a quick push, he put himself on his feet, and then backed slowly away from his opponent.

"I don't need to win." _I only need to survive._

Pain rammed his hands together, finishing his seals before Ryusando could even move his hands. He was hopeless to follow them. "Suiryuudan No Jutsu!"

Ryusando prepared to dodge the water dragon as he had a few nights before when facing Ink. He would have to be careful. A single hit would kill him. Still, he wanted to buy time for Ink and Redai before he played his trump card. If they weren't far enough away, it would cost all three their lives.

The watery dragon roared over Ryusando's head, intending a downward crash. That was the most lethal of the strikes it could perform, but dodging was easy. A quick back flip put him out of harm's way.

"Katon: Karyuudan No Jutsu!"

A fiery dragon flew out of nowhere, anticipating Ryusando's dodge. As the water dragon splashed into nothingness, the flames of its companion drew closer, too fast to block. Ryusando grunted. He couldn't dodge around it conventionally. Quickly, he flipped a kunai out of his wrist and hurled at the ground at his feet. Then he jumped, straight into the air. The tiny exploding note around the kunai's handle released its own fireball, propelling the man clear of harm's way at the cost of a painful burning shock against his legs. Ryusando did not land. Instead, his feet stuck fast to the vertical face of one of the massive buildings of Amegakure. Below him, the flame serpent could not turn quickly enough, and burned away against the lower surface of the wall. Before his foe could get of another jutsu, Ryusando launched his own hands into motion.

_Ox, Bird, Dragon, Bird, Dog, Tiger, Dragon_

"Hiton: Bakudan Tenpi No Jutsu!"

* * *

The pair of ninja ran through the rain on the outskirts of the village. They were already well-clear of the towering buildings, but still close enough to see the smoke of the explosions the battle was producing.

"We should go back!" Ink shouted through the rain, stopping in her tracks.

Redai turned back to her and yelled over the storm. "We can't! We'll be dying for nothing. No one can fight Pain!"

"Even if we die, we can save Ryusando!"

"Why?" Redai asked suddenly. "Why do you care about him?"

She was quiet for a moment. Shaking his head, Redai ran off. Ink wasn't sure she had an answer. Was it because he had saved her life? But the Mizukage had done so more than once as well, and they were now plotting to kill him. Unable to come up with an answer, she looked back through the storm at the clouds of smoke towering against steel buildings. Then she turned away again, and ran.

* * *

Kensei landed with a dull thud on the rocky ground outside of a small Earth Country border village. Behind him, two ANBU assassins fell into position. All three were garbed in white robes and plain masks, wearing the guises of hunter-nin. Kensei walked slowly into the town with his mask concealing his face.

"Halt!" A voice ordered. Kensei stopped his walk with a crisp step, producing a distinct crunch on the gravel beneath his sandals.

"Yes?" He asked, slightly annoyed by the presumption in the kunoichi's tone.

"What do you Sunagakure nin have to do here? You are trespassing on our land."

Kensei watched two Iwagakure ninja approach him. The smaller, a kunoichi armed with two long kunai, placed her face mere inches from the white surface of Kensei's mask. "We have no quarrel with your village." Kensei answered, begrudgingly maintaining the inconvenience of his disguised persona. "We're hunting a missing-nin."

"Tohiryuu Ryusando?" The girl asked. "Brave of you to admit you lost him."

"No." Kensei answered, hoping that his next words would preserve the honor of his village. "Not Ryusando. A kunoichi. Don't you think Suna would send someone more powerful after Ryusando?"

The Iwagakure girl laughed. "Yeah, I guess you're right… weakling. Well, here's the deal. The Tsuchikage will let you stay here for one day. Any longer than that, and go after you. Understand?"

"Perfectly." Kensei answered, not bothering to veil his annoyance. He looked at his squad mates over his shoulders. "Let's get going."

* * *

Ryusando's foot was stopped by Pain's right hand. That in itself would not have been amazing, except that Pain should have been completely blinded by Ryusando's attack. Ignoring the startling block, Ryusando channeled his chakra into his right palm, ramming it into Pain's chest. The concentrated chakra tore through ligaments far deeper than Ryusando's fingers could reach.

"You are powerful, Tohiryuu Ryusando. But even you cannot defeat a god." Pain's arm holding Ryusando's foot suddenly jerked to the side, flinging the man toward another wall. Ryusando turned himself in the air, planting his feet against the vertical surface and running down it, drawing a pair of kunai as he went.

"Now your stalling fails." Pain added, wrapping his hands into a set of seals.

_Tiger, Dragon, Ram, Ox, Bird, Monkey, Horse, Rat_

"Ryuu Kyuu Fujin: Itami Futakoto Gogyou!"

Pain's open hand sizzled, as invisible chakra distorted the air. His quivering fingers slammed into Ryusando's chest as the white-haired ninja found his weapons ripped from his grasp. Ryusando felt the sinister chakra spread.. One by one, old scars and battle-wounds opened across his body. The small cut under his right eye when he first learned to wield a kunai. The massive gash across his left shoulder from his first true fight. The long, crooked cut over his back from the Kumogakure Chunin's katana.

Then the unbearable pain broke out as blood poured out of his eyes. For the second time, he paid the price of a mastery over the power of the sun. He fell to his knees, all his wounds reopened. Pain drew his hand back for a final, killing blow. In the moment that he took to prepare his attack, Ryusando let a cocky grin escape his lips, and he disappeared.

* * *

Ink and Redai flew through the treetops, still racing away from their now-distant foe. They hadn't stopped or spoken since Ink's request to turn back had failed. They had covered at least four kilometers from the city - far more distance than their foe's jutsu could hope to reach.

"You think he'll make it?" Ink asked, breaking the silence.

Redai groaned. "We can't do anything about it either way." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, a dull snap echoed over the empty forest, and the pair spun toward it. Redai produced from his belt a single oversized kunai, as his blind eyes searched the forest. Ink spotted the source of the noise first, though. Ryusando lay bleeding, unconscious, on a tree-trunk behind them.

"Did he just… flicker here?" Ink asked after a moment of thought.

"No one can flicker four kilometers." Redai answered. "Even the Yondaime Hokage couldn't do that."

"Then how…"

"Ask him when we wake him up." Redai answered, picking up the unconscious man by one arm and hauling him over his shoulder. "Now... where do we go next?"

"We need to get him healed, and we need to go west." Ink answered. "What about Konohagakure?"

Redai nodded. As Ink struggled to balance her unconscious leader on her back, she found herself oddly comforted. Whatever might have happened, he was alive. Not it was her job to make sure that he stayed that way.

* * *

**Kekkei Genkai – Bloodline Limit**

**Katon: Karyuudan No Jutsu – Fire Style: Fire Dragon Jutsu**

**Ryuu Kyuu Fujin: Itami Futakoto Gogyou – Nine Point Style: Pain Renewal Seal**


	4. Bitter Regret

Ryusando's eyes squeezed open slowly. The immense pain that accompanied this action was a sign that, in whatever pitiful way, he was still alive. His mind hurt as he looked around, unable to remember the cause of his predicament. His eyes - burned as they were by his own past - had no need to adjust to the light of the room. The instant they were open, he could see clearly.

He was in a hospital room that seemed to double as a prison cell. It had a tiny, barred window that didn't open and barely let in a glimmer of light. The walls were white tiles, over a linoleum floor. The room's door was a massive steel thing with a barred window even smaller than that on the wall. No doorknob was present on the inside, nor were there any hinges for an intrepid escapee to remove. Air was circulated by a lazy overhead fan.

He was lying in a hospital bed, white sheets covering his body. The only other furniture in the room consisted of a bedside table, an IV tree holding a single empty bag, and three stiff, plastic chairs. One of them was occupied.

"Ah. I was wondering when you'd wake up." Ryusando's gaze riveted on the speaker. He was a fairly short man with black hair. A slightly grubby bandage was wrapped over his eyes.

"Obindo Redai?" Ryusando's face picked up a smile. "What happened to me?"

"Well, for starters, we're even now. You held off an Amegakure ninja while the pretty Kirigakure woman and I escaped."

"Pretty Kirigakure…" Ryusando began to shake his head, but stopped quickly when a pain in his neck discouraged the motion. "You mean Ink?"

Redai nodded. "I don't know what you did with her, but she's quite loyal to you. She almost came back to help you. We brought you here when you flickered in."

"Is this Konohagakure?" Ryusando asked, as his memories slowly began to return. The man with the Rin'negan eyes. The Akatsuki.

"Yeah… best medics in the world. Why?"

Ryusando slammed an angry fist onto his knee, and then quickly regretted it. Pain shot up his leg, and his body twitched as it tried to overcome the uncomfortable sensation.

"Careful." Redai muttered sarcastically. "You might hurt yourself."

Ryusando turned to him, sitting up despite his body roaring for rest. "You would have been better off taking me back to Sunagakure_._At least I'm only a traitor there…"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Redai said, irritated. "I thought you'd be grateful. We could have just left you hanging there in the forest if you wanted."

The antagonistic conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Ryusando-san, you have visitors." An unfamiliar voice called through the door, muffled by the thickness of the steel.

Ryusando sighed, and then lowered himself back onto his pillow. "Come in."

Two figures walked in. One was the second-to-the-last that Ryusando wanted to see, while the other was unfamiliar.

The mysterious ninja was a large man, though his posture tried to hide it. He had powerfully built arms that hung too low for a normal man, and similarly oversized legs. His nose was perhaps the most notable figure of his face, larger than the rest of his features. Dark brown eyes - nearly black - watched Ryusando quietly, but judgmentally beneath a head of odd, wiry brown hair.

The more familiar figure hid his face behind a black cloth mask, and his forehead protector hung low over his face, masking one of his eyes. The other glared at the wounded ninja with untold hatred. He was younger than his companion, though both were close to Kensei in age.

Both figures were dressed identically. Short sleeved black shirts and long black fatigues. Their chests were covered with the white hardened leather breastplates Konohagakure's ANBU were known for, and painted steel plates protected their forearms. Both wore black sandals, and Ryusando noted that the ninja he didn't recognize had long, prehensile toes which slowly rapped on the floor as if he were nervous.

"Sharingan Kakashi…" Ryusando muttered. "And you brought a friend."

"I was hoping you were dead." Kakashi answered. "Ryusando, this is Kumanezumi Toi. Toi, this is an insufferable bastard who deserves a kunai in the heart."

Ryusando noted that Toi lived up to his surname, as his appearance certainly suggested a bear, and a rat. The second Konoha ANBU soldier stepped forward, offering a hand. "Nice to meet you, insufferable bastard who deserves a kunai in the heart."

"Tohiryuu Ryusando." The wounded shinobi introduced himself, knocking away the man's hand. "So, Kakashi… what do you want?"

"You know each other?" Redai asked, breaking into the conversation that was quickly growing toward a fight without his participation.

Ryusando nodded. "Leave us alone for a minute, Redai. I have a few things to discuss with Kakashi-kun in private." Nodding slowly, the man left.

Ryusando began, addressing the younger man before him. "Are you here for revenge? I can't stop you."

Kakashi shook his head. "Why bother? You aren't worth it. No, I'm here because the Hokagewanted me to ask you a question." Ryusando's white eyes narrowed to match Kakashi's glare. The Sharingan master found two kunai on his fingertip, which he spun absentmindedly. "Are you here to assassinate the Hokage?" He asked casually, as if Ryusando did not know what would happen if he answered 'yes'.

"No." Ryusando answered plainly. "Though he deserves it."

"People die in war." Kakashi responded, but his reply seemed strained and airy, as though he was reading it out of a book, and he didn't actually believe it.

"They weren't ninja. They were children! How could he sleep at night, knowing what he had done?" Ryusando's voice began controlled, but rose gradually into a violent shout. Kakashi shrugged, more because he didn't feel like explaining than because he did not know. "You did the same!" Ryusando added, still shouting.

"I had a right." Kakashi answered.

"An eye for an eye." Ryusando muttered. "At least I killed that _damn_ girl."

"She wasn't his pupil anymore. She was under my command." Kakashi answered. For the first time in their conversation, anger was present in the young man's voice.

Ryusando's words did nothing to comfort the man before him. "I only hope I caused him at least one night without sleep."

"He was a hero!" Kakashi shouted back.

"No, he wasn't." Ryusando's words dropped to a mere whisper, with far more hateful intensity than anything he had uttered before.

Kakashi stared at Ryusando. The Missing-nin stared back. An awkward silence settled over the pair. Finally, Kakashi turned, walking calmly toward the door, as though nothing had happened. He paused in the doorway, turning over his shoulder to address his old enemy.

"A tragedy has struck this village. I suggest, for your own sake, that you are gone within a day. Any longer, and you might become a suspect. I can't guarantee you a fair trial if you're accused."

The threat did nothing to intimidate the lone ninja. He had already faced one staged trial.

In a rage, Ryusando ripped the IV cable from his arm, and knocked over its stand. The same painful weakness that had cost him the best years of his life now left him without any way to expel his burning fury. As tiny drops of blow fell out of his now open arm, Ryusando clenched his hands into the hospital mattress, tearing away chunks of the stuffing and hoping that somehow, that little bit of damage would hurt the village he hated with every tiny fiber of his soul.

* * *

Kensei dove from treetop to treetop, until the trees became too small to support his weight. He had long since reached the end of the canopy, and rain fell on his spiky brown hair, pressing it down against his head. The Sotaichou didn't care. He was alone, on the hunt, as he had always been meant to be. He had sent off his two companions following other leads.

Then and only then, did he drop to the ground. Ten years of conditioning gave his body more than enough strength to run the remainder of the distance to the towering buildings of the village in the distance. He never reached that far, though.

About halfway to his destination, a woman dropped out of the sky before him. Her round face and blue hair were decorated with a pierced lower lip, and a white flower that Kensei suspected was made of paper. She wore a black robe emblazoned with red clouds.

"Who are you?" She asked, her voice a deadly serious tone.

"Kensei. A representative of Sunagakure." As he had for all his life, Satetso Kensei chose not to betray his clan name.

"We could consider this an act of war." The woman threatened. Behind the white mask of his disguise, Kensei smiled.

"But you won't, because Amegakure is still no match for the military might of Suna."

Kensei was surprised when she seemed unfazed by his bold declaration. "I would not bet on it." She answered coldly. "Now, why are you here?"

A drop of cold sweat fell down Kensei's cheek, and he was suddenly grateful that the mask hid it from the woman. He couldn't sense her chakra, and that worried him. He had no idea of her strength, no indication of whether a fight would end in his favor.

"I am searching for a Missing-nin."

"You are searching for Tohiryuu Ryusando." She stated the fact as just what it was. "He left here just last night, after engaging in battle with Amegakure's Village Elder."

Kensei tried to read her face, but it seemed to be the perfect mask. The amount of information he had just been given seemed excessive, meaning that either it was a lie, or that the woman trusted him. The second seemed an almost ridiculous option. "Was your elder injured?" Kensei asked.

The woman glared at him. "No. But your prey was. Heavily. He had a large wound on his left shoulder when he escaped. He was last seen traveling east with two companions. One was a swordsman, and the other, a missing-nin from our own village. We were unable to identify the swordsman's village, but our traitor is also an S-Rank Missing Shinobi."

Kensei knew too much about diplomacy to believe that he was getting this information for free. "What do you want me to do for you?"

"When you catch Ryusando, kill both of his companions. The woman, we don't care about, but we want our man's body returned to us

Every ounce of the young Sotaichou's instinct told him that somehow, something was horribly wrong. Kensei could tell that the information was true, as it matched up with what he had already gathered.

The problem was the woman's apparent willingness to allow another village to claim one of their missing-nin. Trusting Kensei with the body was an enormous risk that their village jutsu would be leaked. The woman seemed in no way worried by this threat, as if she weren't even aware of it. It seemed to Kensei that the woman was _too_helpful, as though she were trying to cover up something in her own village. That led him to his next question.

"May I spend the night in your village, and take the time to regroup."

"You could… but then you would lose his trail." A second, male voice answered Kensei. He spun quickly. His gaze was met by a boy, no older than fourteen, who a black cloak that was the perfect pair of the woman's. "He arrived in Konoha last night, along with one of the Swordsmen of Kirigakureand an Amegakure Shinobi." The boy continued.

Kensei analyzed this new figure. He stared at Kensei with blood-red eyes, and a Konohagakure forehead protector adorned his face, sliced through with a single long scratch.

"You are…?" Kensei asked.

"It doesn't matter. He works for me." The woman muttered, quickly enough that Kensei recognized a cover-up.

"Uchiha Itachi." The boy answered, ignorant of his superior's words. The Sunagakure Sotaichou had heard of the boy. He was a Konoha ANBU Taichou himself, with a powerful Kekkei Genkai. Why was he working for an Amegakure Kunoichi? Kensei made up his mind quickly and decisively. "Thank you for your aid." He muttered, turning toward Konohagakure.

* * *

Seven hours later, Redai addressed his new commander." Are you able to stand?" he asked as Ryusando settled his bare feet onto the cold tiles of the hospital floor. By rising to his feet, Ryusando answered the question. Carefully, he rolled his wrists in wide circles, releasing the few knots in his muscles that had developed from lying still for hours. His eyes still burned, but his body was otherwise fine.

"Well, I guess we can go, then." Ink muttered. She leaned against the corner of the room, where two walls met, leaving the vast majority of her body concealed by shadows. She had reclaimed her mask and sword, and now wore her loose black fatigues, along with a Konoha tactical vest, dyed gray to match the Kirigakure style. "Are you sure you're all right?"

Ryusando held up a hand as a request for a moment of time. Slowly, he lifted a foot up, holding it at a right angle from his body. The foot wavered in midair, about a half-meter off the ground. Then, to the amazement of his companions, he lifted his other foot, and stood in midair. After about three seconds, he lowered his feet again to the floor.

"How did you…"

"A Kinjutsu." Ryusando answered, in a tone that didn't entirely convince Ink. "If I can use that technique, I'll be fine. Let's go." With calm grace, he walked to the door, which Ink had thoughtfully unlocked from the outside. Grabbing onto the bars in the window, Ryusando painstakingly dragged the door open.

Outside, the hallway was empty. Ryusando half-strode, half-limped down the hallway, still wearing the white tunic of a hospital patient.

"Ryusando-san, you really aren't in any condition…" A medical Shinobiaddressed him.

"I am fine." It was not an opinion, but a statement of fact.

"We can't have you out walking the halls." A large senbon appeared in the ninja's hand, presumably poisoned with an anesthetic. Ryusando saw it coming. He was much faster than his attacker. With his right hand, he grabbed the wrist of the man. His left hand settled onto the man's abdomen slowly. The doctor stared down at Ryusando's hand. A moment later, his eyes flashed with pain, and he collapsed onto the laminate floor.

"What was that?" Ink asked.

"A variant of Juuken."

Ink found herself thankful again for her mask. It seemed that in every conversation, this man surprised her. Ryusando carefully, but swiftly fished through the man's pockets, before taking a hold of a small scroll. Through the whole motion, he made not even the slightest sound.

"Redai, cover our backs. Ink, hide the body in the cell."

With those words, he darted on down the corridor. Redai was the last to follow, and his blind gaze unnerved Ink. He seemed… almost unnatural in his grace of movement. And worse, she never knew if he was watching her.

* * *

"Who are you?" A voice asked. Kensei was not the slightest bit surprised. He had heard not only the owner of the voice, but also his nine associates as they followed him through the woods. Instead, he dropped to the ground, leaving his hands where they were visible. "Sharingan Kakashi… and your entire ANBU squad. I'm surprised I merit such attention."

"You're intruding on Konohagakure's territory. Identify yourself." Kakashi ordered, his face hidden behind a white dog-mask. It surprised him that the boy had been able to identify him by voice, but then again, there were eye holes. One was filled with red.

"Kensei. I'm hunting a missing-nin. You don't recognize my voice, Kakashi?"

The ANBU Taichou's memories slowly returned. "We fought in the War…"

Kensei nodded. "And now I'm here to tie up some loose ends."

"Then you're hunting Ryusando?" Kakashi asked.

Again, the boy masked as a hunter-nin silently nodded, and then he took off his mask and smiled. "Would you like a reason to kill him?"

* * *

Ryusando stood at the end of a long hallway, his companions behind him. One by one, he scanned the labels of the hallway doors quickly. After minutes of searching, he came to a door simply labeled 'Storage'. before He stepped back from it, and then lowered his shoulder and slammed himself into it. As the dust from the cracked doorway cleared, Ryusando rubbed his arm, groaning under his breath in pain.

"You all right?" Redai asked.

"Fine." He muttered, stepping into the room. "Keep your eyes ready." As he spoke, Ryusando walked into the room. Ink and Redai followed on his feet.

Ink gasped as they entered the room. It was filled, wall to wall, floor to ceiling, with shelves of weapons and ninja-gear. Ryusando scanned the various shelves with an alarming speed, before, heading first to the racks of clothing.

"Why are you in such a hurry, Ryusando?" The Kirigakure kunoichi asked.

"It's only a matter of time before we're discovered." He answered. "Take anything you need. From here, we head straight for Kirigakure."

Ink studied the weapons for barely fifteen seconds. When she looked at Ryusando again, he was wearing his black tactical vest and white slacks. He grabbed a pair of blue sashes; each covered in loose straps, and slung them over his shoulders, forming an x-shape across his chest.

"Those yours?" Ink asked.

"They are now." Redai muttered sarcastically, grabbing a set of kunai for himself. Meanwhile, Ryusando walked over to the bins and shelves filled with weapons. He quickly filled his pockets with explosive tags, kunai, and shuriken. He stuffed a pair of wakizashi into his belt, before examining the other weapon racks.

"What is this?" Ink asked.

"Konoha's armory." The Light Ninja muttered, agitated.

"In the hospital?" Ink asked.

Redai nodded. "Unlike Suna or Kiri, Konoha is relatively easy to reach. Instead of a desert or an ocean, they rely on man-made defenses, like the wall. Therefore, when they are under siege, the hospital is the last line of defense."

Ryusando smiled when he reached a single tray, buried deep in the corner of the long room. His hands blurred, too fast for Ink's eyes to follow. When his motion was completed, he turned away.

Ink opened her mouth to ask what he had gathered, but her sentence was interrupted by the crunching of sandals on the scattered drywall behind the team. As one, they turned to face their enemies. "Looks like he wanted revenge after all, Ryusando." Redai muttered.

Hatake Kakashi stared down the trio, a short, straight-bladed sword in his off hand. "Tohiryuu Ryusando, you and your companions are under arrest for the massacre of the Uchiha clan."

Ryusando's eyes settled on the man beside him. "Kensei."

The Sunagakure Sotaichou smiled at his predecessor in a vicious, self-satisfying way. "Sensei_…_" He spat the word, with hatred burnt into his inflection. "This is the end of the road."

"Kensei, stop. Listen to me. Arashi was lying."

Hatake Kakashi's hand began to glow with lightning as Kensei answered. "Don't bother, Sensei. I saw the body. I know what it your jutsu look like." He turned to Kakashi. "Let's go."

Kakashi lunged forward, moving at a speed to put a bolt of lightning to shame. Kensei drew his own elongated katana, charging after the Konoha ninja.

"Redai. Now." Ryusando ordered.

The Amegakure shinobi took a step forward, placing himself between Kakashi and Ryusando. Kakashi was a split second from reaching Redai's face when the bandage came off.

Kensei gasped. In one moment, all three had been standing in plain sight. Kakashi was about to kill the first of the three missing-nin. The next moment, they were gone. Kakashi's electrified hand flew into a shelf, slashing the wood in half. He pulled himself out of the wall and turned to Kensei.

"What was that?"

The Sunagakure Sotaichou looked around, but found no sign of his quarry. He sheathed his blade and shook his head. "Goodbye, Kakashi. I'll let you know when he is dead."

* * *

"What did you do to them?"

Redai laughed at Ink's question as he re-tied his bandage. "Nothing. Literally."

"Was it a Genjutsu?"

Ryusando grunted. "A Doujutsu Kekkei Genkai." He paused, before adding "They weren't harmed."

"What does it do?" Ink asked. Ryusando grunted again, his feet meeting another stump. With a strong kick, he sent himself far ahead of his companions.

"I take it he doesn't talk much?" Redai muttered.

"I guess not." Ink answered. "But I've only known him for three days."

Ink saw the mysterious Amegakure man raise his left eyebrow from beneath his grimy bandage. "You mean you aren't a team?" He asked

Ink laughed a little, but it was a false laugh, as though she were trying to give away comfort that she didn't actually have. "I was hunting him, on orders from the Mizukage." Redai glanced at her sword again.

"The Swordsmen of Kirigakure, I take it? How many actual members are left?"

"Three... well, two now. The twins. Kodaru and Kisame. I counted myself, but I guess that isn't right anymore."

"You're both missing-nin?" Redai asked incredulously. "I thought Ryusando, but you...?"

"I guess. Like you said, he doesn't talk much. He's from Suna, but I don't know more than that. He must have been the Kazekage."

"What?"

"You didn't hear? It was a few years ago. The Sandaime Kazekage just disappeared."

"So you think he's an ex-_Kage _missing-nin?" Redai asked sarcastically. "Brilliant. I've got to say, beautiful, your brain clearly isn't your strong suit." Ink rolled her eyes behind her mask as the pair ran on, trying to keep up with their new, mysterious leader.

It took the group a few silent hours to travel across the dense forests of Fire Country. The leaves around them grew looser and looser, until they finally disappeared atop a short rocky cliff that led down to a thin, sandy beach.

Ryusando grunted in pain as he landed on the sand. He waited for a moment as Ink and Redai caught up to him "Ready?" he asked.

"Now what?" Redai asked. "I mean, she can swim, but you and I need to get there somehow too. Do you have another insane trick, or are we just going to walk?"

Ryusando turned back to Redai with a cold glare. "Yes." Ryusando's hands launched into a string of untraceable seals, and then he gestured at the sand. A beam of light emanated from his hand against the ground. Slowly, a mass of sand began to glow, until Ink was forced to cover the eyeholes of her mask.

A few seconds later, Ryusando panted slowly. "It's done."

Ink opened her eyes to a strange sight: a boat made entirely of glass. "That's genius…" She whispered to herself.

Ryusando grabbed onto the transparent craft and pushed it into the water. "Let's go."

* * *

**Kinjutsu – Forbidden Technique.**

**Juuken – Gentle Fist**

**Wakizashi – A short katana (usually 50 cm's in length)**


	5. Tears and Blood

Kirigakure was a strange village, sitting inside a wall of tall mountains against a massive, jagged cliff overlooking the ocean. Hanging precariously off the edge were a series of wooden watchtowers that threatened to fall to their deaths at any moment. For the most part, they didn't seem to be needed. Anyone hoping to approach the watery base of the cliff had to first navigate a maze of jagged stones protruding like teeth before the titanic stone wall.

Far below the towers, and their ever-alert guards, three missing-nin approached the cliffs in a small glass boat, propelled through the water by Ink's Suiton jutsu. The Swordsman of Kirigakure watched her companions. Redai was absentmindedly cleaning grime from beneath his fingernails with a kunai, unhindered by his apparent lack of vision. Ryusando was carefully and precisely tracing mysterious characters on a tiny jutsu scroll with a shiny black ink. Ink wasn't particularly interested in what it said; she only cared enough about the 'old tongue', as it was called, to piece together the names of her enemy's techniques. She had never bothered learning it well enough to write, or to carry on a decent conversation, for that matter.

"Be careful." Redai told the kunoichi, looking up from his now clean hands. "If we hit those rocks, it's all over."

"You might not believe this, but I lived here, once." Ink answered sarcastically, trying to maintain control of the boat in the choppy waters. "Now shut up. This isn't easy."

The crests of a few large waves had slowly begun to fill the boat with water. Ryusando was silent at the head of the boat, staring at the stones and thinking.

"I could blow us a way through." Redai suggested.

Ryusando shook his head. "Not yet."

"We need to get inside before you can start drawing away the other ninja." Ink added, reseating herself at Ryusando's side in the head of the small vessel. "They say this is why you can't invade Kirigakure. Only a few ninja have good enough chakra control to walk up the cliff, with all the water and moss. It's too high to use ropes and hooks. And you can't just swim in; Kiri has a team of ninja who scan the water for chakra signatures. If you fall in, we lose the element of surprise."

"It isn't very big." Redai noted.

"Most of the buildings go down into the cliff. The Mizukage's office actually has a window that opens out into the ocean. It makes for almost impregnable security."

"That's fine." Ryusando looked at the back of the boat, where a particularly large swell was approaching. "I'll have a way up for you in a moment. As the wave lifted the back of the boat, Ryusando stood to his feet. Their boat rocked dangerously, threatening to capsize, until the Sunagakure missing-nin took a massive leap toward the cliff wall. His sandaled feet narrowly cleared the spiked rocks, and met the smooth, slick stone. At first, Ink feared he would fall, but Ryusando's hands found the wall and he held on firmly. Chakra tied him to the surface as easily as it if were flat ground, and he slowly began his climb.

Ink watched him as he disappeared into the mists overhead. Then she turned to her other ally. "Redai, get up front and push the boat of the rocks if we get to close. I'll see how close we can get."

Redai nodded, and silently went about his work. The boat squeezed through a narrow gap in the rocks, and found itself in the tightly confined area behind the rocks but before the wall. There, Ink finally relaxed her hands.

"Tired?" Redai asked, leaning back against the head of the boat.

"Nervous." Ink answered. "No matter how good this plan is, it won't be easy. The Mizukage… he's been through more assassination attempts than I can explain. He's strong, and he's ruthless."

Redai shrugged. "If Ryusando really is the Kazekage, it won't matter. But that's not really why you're worried, is it?"

Ink's eyes widened slightly behind her mask. "No. It isn't. He was my Jonin Sensei. The Nidaime Mizukage."

Redai sat up at those words. "The Sandaime? You mean Kirigakure has only been through _three _Kage? I thought this was bloody Kirigakure."

Ink nodded. "Kirigakure was in a state of civil war for years after the Nidaime died. No one could claim control of the entire village, so no one could be called the Kage. Then Sensei trained us…"

Ink's reminiscence was cut off when a rope fell out of the mist overhead, landing in the water nearby.

Ink looked at Redai, and Redai at Ink. Both shrugged, and they began their long, slow ascent toward destiny.

* * *

Kensei reached the shore without incident. The sea was relatively calm when he reached it, and he stared out across the open waters with the remnants of a lingering doubt in the back of his mind. He found himself glad that his subordinates were gone. Ryusando was his - and his alone - to defeat.

"So… you think Kirigakure will hide you?." Slowly, he drew his katana, and set it in the water with his right hand. His left formed a half-_Tiger_seal. Slowly, the blade changed, warping and shifting under his control, until it took the form of a small steel boat. Kensei stepped into it carefully before letting his hands come together in another set of seals.

_Ox, Bird, Hare, Dragon, Tiger, Serpent_

He ignored the traditional announcement of one's technique names, as there was no-one there to hear them. Normally, he would have been considered horribly rude but he really didn't care about making friends. The job was more important.

"_A Shinobi is a tool…"_ Ryusando had taught him so many years ago. "_…But he is also a man. Neglect either side, and you will fail. To be a Shinobi is to walk along the blade of a sword, where even the slightest mistake will have dire consequences. If you make even a single mistake, your life is instantly in peril."_

"Well, Sensei…" He muttered to himself. "You're the one making the mistakes now."

* * *

Ryusando pulled Redai and Ink up onto the top of the cliff. The thick mists of the village concealed their line of sight to the village watchtowers. The leader placed a single finger over his lip, and then drew his wakizashi from his waist. The village was quiet, though the voices of its inhabitants could be heard in the distance.

He focused. This mission was no different than any other ANBU assassination, he had told himself. It was a lie, but he was a very good liar. He saw a small shed nearby, perfect for his plan, and ran silently to its side. Then, focusing, he listened to his senses. The click of sandals on stone gave him an approaching figure. Ryusando didn't bother conveying his intentions to his companions. He ran up the side of the building with no more sound than he made on the ground, and waited in a tensed crouch. Slowly but surely, the Kirigakure ninja emerged from the mists. A Chunin boy, maybe fifteen or sixteen, with a set of keys at his belt.

Ryusando leapt high into the air, and brought his wakizashi down in the boy's throat. Carefully clutching the corpse to stop the noise it would make when it hit the ground, he let his own feet touch land. After a quick check for other nearby ninja, he pulled the body into the shed.

Inside were gardening tools and a number of other civilian implements. Nothing Ryusando needed, but an ideal hiding place for a corpse. He stepped out of the shed and leaned around the corner, motioning for his squad to enter. After all three were in the tiny space, he shut the door.

"So what's the plan?" Redai asked.

Ryusando looked at him, and then down at the dead Chunin. "Put on his vest and forehead protector. Stay low for twenty minutes. Then create a diversion. After that, kill everyone that approaches the doors to the administrative building. Ink and I will deal with anyone left inside."

Ryusando pulled from his pocket the scroll he had painstakingly scribed on the boat ride into the misty village. "Ink, take this. And give me your sword."

"What?" Ink hissed, in a low whisper that still perfectly carried her tone of indignation. "Ryusando, that's my best weapon."

"I know." Ryusando took a deep breath. "That's why you'll have to trust me."

"Trust you? What happened to 'only fools need trust'?"

He was quiet, at first. He eyes glanced down (though Ink saw no change in the white balls). He scratched his feet on the ground slowly. Then he spoke. "We are fools. We're trying to assassinate a Kage, inside his own village."

Ink stared down at the man who she had only days before been trying to kill. His face was stern and serious, and his blank white eyes held no emotion. For a moment, her mind entertained gathering a few of Kirigakure's ninja's and turning him in; completing her mission with ease. But behind her own mask, she felt that they had some bond, no matter how small.

"Fine, Ryusando."

"Good. Now, inside that scroll are four jutsu. You'll be able to activate each one once, by opening that part of the scroll, and sending your chakra into it. The first one is a _Raiton_ jutsu - a lightning elemental attack."

"I might not be able to read it…" Ink told him. "But I at least know the names of the elements in the old tongue."

Ryusando grunted. "The second jutsu is one of mine. _Bakudan Tenpi_. The exploding sun technique, used to blind enemy combatants. Make sure to close your eyes when it goes off."

Ink nodded solemnly. Ryusando gestured to the tightly wound parchment. "Unroll it." Through the eyeholes of her mask, Ink saw four clusters of unfamiliar characters wound into strange patterns. The third from the right had a small opening in the center of the pattern, as if waiting for some last mark of ink. "The third technique will summon your sword, from me. Try not to use it until you need it; it'll be much easier to land a killing blow if I can use it on the Mizukage. You need to bond it to you first, though." Ryusando pulled from his back pocket a shuriken, and reached for the scroll. With a sudden flick of his wrist, he stabbed Ink's thumb, drawing a small drop of blood.

"Smear that on the blade of the weapon. Then stamp your thumb in the center of the seals."

Ink slowly pulled her sword off of her back, suddenly realizing just how good the motion felt after having been so long without it, disguised as an Amegakure kunoichi. Now, though, it was a danger to her. Her hand quivered over the blade.

"Why the hesitation?" Redai asked. "Afraid of the pain?"

"Bursting Poison." Ink answered. "An enzyme harvested from puffer fish. It causes muscle expansion and a rapid rate, but since human skin isn't made to stretch so rapidly, it shreds open the skin and sends overgrown muscle tissue falling out of the tears. Then, about half a seconds later, the overgrown muscles retract. A hit to a limb will cripple the limb forever; even Tsunade can't heal damage like that. If you connect with the torso or head, it kills. Overgrowing muscles crush the ribcage, the spinal cord, organs… and then they fall out when the muscles shrink again."

Redai laughed. "And here I thought poisons were boring."

Ryusando looked sternly at Ink. "Keep your secrets to yourself. Just spread the blood."

Slowly, with a quivering hand, Ink dripped tiny crimson raindrops across the black sword. It took her only a few seconds, but it seemed an eternity. Then, with a firm push of her thumb, she marked the paper.

"Now… what does the last jutsu do?"

Ryusando's face took on an even more serious look. "A last resort."

* * *

The man who was once called Yahiko stood on the face of a god: himself. It was a massive steel shrine, decorated with the piercings that gave him his new namesake. Pain. Leader of the Akatsuki. Master of Amegakure. A god amongst ninja.

He had found a new threat, but also a new opportunity. One that needed to be acted on, with incredible efficiency and tact. For his plan, Pain turned to a new recruit.

"Uchiha Itachi." He uttered, into the empty air, high of Amegakure.

"Yes, Leader-sama?" A young voice answered in his ear.

"You are travel to Kirigakure. Tohiryuu Ryusando is there, along with Obindo Redai."

"I am to kill them?" Itachi asked.

"If the chance presents itself. But you must first ensure that Yasekiba Enkai dies. Then you will remain there, and help a child named Yagura to take the title."

There was a silence, as Pain waited for more words.

"Itachi? Do you understand these orders?"

"Yagura is the Jinchuriki of the Three-Tails, Leader-sama. If we are going to extract the beast, why should we bother installing him to power?"

Pain's Rin'negan narrowed with displeasure. "A ninja does not question his orders, Itachi."

"Forgive me, Leader-sama. It will be done." As the last word was finished, Pain felt the tie of chakra to his ear end.

* * *

The interior of the administrative building was an enormous cylinder, of which only the smallest fraction rose above ground level. A central, spiral staircase led deep into the stone of the island. The lower the floor, the greater Kirigakure's secrets. The lowest floor was ten meters below sea level, and it held only two rooms. One was an enormous subterranean garden. The second was the Mizukage's office. Reaching it wasn't the issue; escaping was. Ryusando became more aware of this with each passing moment, as Ink led him, with his hands bound, into the main doors of the enormous building.

The ground level was a tile-floored lobby, stocked with fine furniture and exotic plants for those guests wealthy and desperate enough to travel to Kirigakure and take out a contract. On this particular day, no such guests were waiting. Nevertheless, a clerk sat behind the round reception desk in the center of the cylindrical room. Seemingly surprised by the presence of guests, the man looked up. He was clearly a ninja, though obviously not a proficient one, given his occupation. His aged and worried face seemed to have scrunched in from a much larger surface, and a rather troublesome scrap of hair posing as a moustache decorated his upper lip.

"Ink-sama! We thought you were dead." He greeted, before standing. "Er… forgive my asking, but who is this?"

"Tohiryuu Ryusando." She answered. "My most recent catch. An S-rank Missing-nin from Sunagakure."

The clerk stood up, rubbed the bridge of his nose, and then stared at the captive ninja. Garbed in a faded gray shirt and rather damp black pants, Ryusando certainly didn't look the part of the threat he was supposed to represent. He didn't look up, or say anything to the clerk.

"I can bring up a few Genin to take him down, if you want."

"Mizukage-sama asked me to deliver him personally." Ink answered, with no sign of worry at the danger to their plan that the offer represented.

"Very well." The man sat back down. "I'll let him know to expect you."

The man reached for a small button the desk, presumably for an intercom system. Before his finger had even twitched, however, Ink's sword severed his head. As the body fell, the muscles of face and neck expanded from Ink's poison. His eyes fell out, and raw muscle and blood poured out onto the floor.

"Subtle." Ryusando muttered.

"Quiet." Ink answered, forming a few quick hand seals. "Bunshin no Jutsu." A puff of smoke disappeared to reveal a second tall kunoichi, who immediately placed her own hands in a _Ram_ seal. "Henge no Jutsu." After another puff of smoke, the receptionist stood next to his murderer, seemingly no worse for the wear.

"Will the disguise hold?" Ryusando asked.

"If Redai makes his distraction soon, it won't matter anyway." Ink answered, yanking on Ryusando's wrists again. The captor and prisoner walked around the side of the desk, where the first of a great number of spiraling stairs began.

Down and down they went, passing massive libraries and repositories of jutsu. The brick walls of the spiraling staircase had an almost innumerable supply of traps, most only half-hidden in the walls and floor of the passage. The points of spears, ready to lunge out at the unaware. Trapdoors with clearly visible hinges. None triggered, but all were present.

The greatest threat to the two ninja were the innumerable Kirigakure forces they saw as they descended. A squad of ANBU training. Jonin studying techniques. Each and every deadly opponent was ready to kill given a simple reason. Ink could only hope that no such reason presented itself.

Then they rounded the last and lowest stair. The two conspirators had expected a dozen Kirigakure snipers. Instead, kneeling on a small square of dirt below a red-leafed maple tree, was a single shinobi. On the ground between his knees and the tree was an enormous… object. The uneducated might have called it a log, ignoring the tightly wound handle at the base. It was covered in bandages, except a few places near the bottom where bright purple scales were visible.

"Kisame…" Ink growled under his breath.

The man glanced over his shoulder, first laying eyes on the white-haired captive. "Do I know you?" Then his gaze turned just a bit further, revealing the second infiltrator. "Oh. This is Ryusando. So you actually did it, Ink? You beat him?"

Ink nodded. Then, with a sudden crack, the entire building shook. Sirens went off throughout the building, and a large steel grate closed off the stairs.

"Are you sure?" Kisame asked, picking up the massive weapon at his feet.

* * *

Redai stared at the massive crater he had created, as alarms cried in the distance. His right hand held a slightly curved kunai. As the ANBU of Kirigakure stared to flicker up to the village center, the blinded ninja smiled. It had been too many days since he had enjoyed a good fight. He took a thick stack of exploding tags from his stolen tactical vest, and ran into the fray.

* * *

Kisame watched his two new foes with a giddy excitement. When Ink was sent away to hunt Ryusando, he thought he had lost his opportunity to kill her and finish his job. Now he had another chance - one he wouldn't squander. And if she had beaten Ryusando…

Kisame's train of thought was interrupted when Ryusando casually threw off the handcuffs on his wrists as though they were nothing. Ink pulled a pair of weapons from her back - her own namesake sword that Kisame had envied for so many years, and a traditional katana.

"You're working together?" Kisame shook his head, mildly disappointed. "I have to admit, Ink, I didn't expect you to betray the village."

Ink's next move only went further to shatter her expectations. She handed her sword to Ryusando, keeping the katana for herself. "Go. This is my job."

Ryusando, hefting the weapon a good half-meter longer than himself, walked slowly past Kisame. The Swordsman didn't bother trying to stop him. Kisame didn't really care who died in the Mizukage's office. He was more entertained by the woman before him.

Ink tightened her grip on the simple katana she held in her hands.

"It's a nice sword. Certainly better than what I used to use. Sunagakure made?"

Ink's answer was to blur, and then suddenly appear over Kisame's head, swinging down for a killing blow. Kisame's smile revealed his shark-like teeth. He didn't bother blocking - he didn't need to. Instead, he punched her squarely at the base of her ribs. As her breath suddenly disappeared, Ink's arms lost their strength, and her attack fell wide and weak. With little more effort than he might have used to lift a teacup, Kisame threw Ink across the room. She crashed into the trunk of a potted tree, and landed in the dirt below.

Ink couldn't help but notice that he had gotten stronger. Their last encounter had left her the clear victor, and only a timely smoke bomb had left Kisame alive. Now he had become adapted to Samehada… the most deadly of the legendary swords. And she didn't have hers to even the fight.

* * *

The Mizukage's doors were unlocked. Ryusando entered slowly, to find a room of almost ludicrous size and opulence. The doors swung shut ominously behind him. The room's walls were slightly rounded, forming a long ellipse at least fifty meters across, and ten wide at its fattest point. The only corners in the room were on the doors, and where the walls met the floor, as the ceiling rounded smoothly into the walls. A foamy green carpet ran in a single thin strip along the otherwise wooden floor into the distance.

Ryusando began to walk slowly toward the distant end of the room. His path was marked by a red carpet, flanked by a dozen vertical glass tubes that ran from floor to ceiling. They were fish tanks, filled with beautiful coral and rare, exotic creatures of the sea. A bulbous red seahorse stared at the rogue ninja, but Ryusando continued forward without paying it any attention.

The far end of the room was capped in glass, looking out into the surprisingly clear depths of the ocean. A school of fish swam past the opening, oblivious to the battle that would soon take place inside.

Just before the window was a slightly raised part of the floor, where the path of carpet ended. The raised ground was only large enough for a single, marble desk, and a high-backed chair. That chair was turned, facing away, yet Ryusando could see from the way it was reclined that it held a human being.

"So… you finally made it." A gruff, almost growling voice asked from the chair.

"Why did you want me dead?" Ryusando asked, stepping up to the desk and tightening his grip on the handle of Ink's sword.

"You don't know it?" The Mizukage stood, revealing a nearly-rounded light green hat and white robes. He still didn't turn to face his questioner. "A bounty, from your Kazekage."

"If you wanted money, you wouldn't have come for me… and you certainly wouldn't have sent one of the Swordsmen."

"Very astute, Ryusando. You are more of a diplomat than I was led to believe. But I still won't be answering your question." The man finally turned. He was frightening to say the least. The Mizukage, Enkai, known to the world as the Reaper of Kirigakure, was a middle aged man. His thinning black hair was mercifully hidden by his hat, but his build was immense. The size of his muscles was clearly visible, even through his white robes. That was the extent of his humanity, however. His skin was a pale gray, and his teeth were sharp and jagged, like those of a shark. Gills were clearly visible on the sides of neck.

The Mizukage was forced to roll to the side when Ryusando swung Ink's sword into his chair. Their battle had begun

* * *

Ink only narrowly managed to evade an attack from Samehada. The tightly bandaged weapon soared over her head as she folded at the waist, placing a hand on the ground to balance herself. Kisame's foot collided with her mask, flipping her over onto her back. The momentum of his previous swing carried over into a downward smash that intended to crush Ink not by the shaving scales of the weapon, but by its sheer weight.

"Now it's just me, Ink. Imagine my surprise when Sensei told me that."

Ink rolled to the side and pushed herself back to her feet in the time it took her mind to process the information.

"Kodaru left?"

Kisame smiled, a predator catching the scent of prey. "When did I ever say anything about leaving? Or did you forget what we used to say?"

* * *

_The man known as the Reaper of Kirigakure walked slowly before them. Seven recruits. Seven brutal, deadly ninja. All of them were ready to kill for their mist-shrouded home. _

_Enkai glanced down the file of ninja, watching for some sign of emotion. None was clearly visible. "You have been scourged of the human heart. You are tools - blades for the village to use on a moment's notice. Your swords are an extension of yourselves. In time, you will bond with them."_

_The Reaper's hand rose up, and his fingers snapped. Four masked men stepped out of the shadows. Ink recognized them immediately._

_"These are the skin-shapers. Their chakra will infuse you with greater strength and endurance, with breath beneath the waves, and with dexterity and flexibility. The only cost is your humanity. Enjoy their blessings."_

_The figures each approached a ninja in the line. Kisame went first - the larger and more reckless of the twins, he used an unmodified katana, although everyone knew he had his eyes set on one of the more powerful swords._

_He was led by one of the strange, masked men behind a curtain. It took a moment of flashing chakra before they heard the screams. They lasted for only a few seconds, and he walked out again, forever changed. His skin was gray, smooth, and with an unnatural sheen, like that of a shark. His teeth were pointed and frightening. And he was obviously displeased. He returned to his point in the line and stared forward without uttering a word._

_Zabuza, the youngest, went next. The Demon, they called him, for the way he had massacred his entire class. No one really trusted him, and it would later come with no surprise when he betrayed the village, and tried to kill Enkai. The bandages around his mouth would hide his inevitable transformation._

_The Demon was reduced to screaming at the transformation, even more quickly than Kisame, but he came out looking almost untouched. His skin remained human, and his eye retained their callous glare. _

_Then it was Ink's turn, and behind her mask, she grimaced. Her katana hung at her waist, a comforting companion. As she stepped forward, following after the silent masked sculptor of flesh, the ninja on her left whispered a mere handful of words._

_"You'll be fine."_

_Her eyes shot to Kodaru, a motion hidden only by the white mask upon her face. Then she stepped around the curtain, to see a steel chair and three ninja waiting._

_She sat down, and they simply set their hands on her shoulders. Only moments later, she felt the shock of chakra. Pain surged through her muscles as they grew and hardened, and her body changed. She sucked down a breath, and then bit her lip to hide her screaming. Two unfamiliar, sharp points drove into her lower lip, and she screamed, even as the painful shocking stopped. _

_They provided her no mirror; only the subtle taste of metal let her know she was bleeding. And as she walked out, no one spoke. She had been expecting that they might, or at least that Kodaru would._

_He went next, before Raiga, and then Chojuurou, and finally Mangetsu. Each came out changed, and Ink slowly began to discover the secret. They stopped at the screaming - and the longer one lasted, the less human they became. Suddenly, Kisame's unnatural form was a more frightening prospect than Ink had first suspected._

_When Ink looked forward again, Enkai had disappeared. Then they saw the glowing behind the curtain. It went on for a few moments, and then a minute, and then more and more time, until finally it stopped without a single noise._

_The Reaper, the mentor of the group, walked out to meet them in his new form. His skin was made of gray scales, and his dagger-point teeth clicked as he adjusted his jaw. His body was larger, now, and more tightened, and the already powerful muscles of his arms and legs now looked ready to burst. _

_"You will be a force to be reckoned with." Enkai told them all. At that point, he had merely been an ANBU Taichou; a far-cry from the Mizukage's office he would hold in later years. The gift of the skin-shapers would change everything. "You will be feared. Renowned. Deadly and lethal. And some day, it will kill you. Nobody walks away from the Swordsmen of Kirigakure. Nobody leaves."_

* * *

Ryusando narrowly avoided a sudden punch from the Mizukage as he ripped Ink's sword free, mostly out of convenience. Enkai had not even bothered turning his waist, or putting the force of his shoulders into the attack - it was a motion of speed rather than power.

The Sunagakure missing-nin was therefore rather surprised when the marble desk behind him shattered under the force of the blow. Rather than taking the opportunity to attack again, Ryusando kicked himself backwards down the hall, landing amongst the fish-tank columns.

"This strength…" Enkai slowly clenched his fist around a shard of marble. "…it is the mark of my power. I can fight beyond any mere human's level. My stamina, my chakra, my speed - they are all above you. And you thought using Ink's sword would even the odds?" He let out a guttural chuckle. "How trite."

Ryusando flung a pair of shuriken at the inhuman ninja, only to find them ineffective against the scales that enclosed his skin. Enkai held his hands tightly together in a _Hare _seal, and then he stopped, waiting for Ryusando's next move.

The missing-nin was all too happy to oblige. With a quick flicker, Ryusando brought himself within reach of the Mizukage. Using the momentum of his movement to strengthen his blow, he brought the black sword in his hands around for a killing blow.

The noise that issued forth was distinctly that of blades colliding. Enkai held in his hands a katana two meters in length - far too long for the standard handle between his fingers. The length proved to be of little issue, though, as the blade had been bent into a sharp corner half a meter before its tip. This scythe-like sword had earned the Reaper his name.

Ryusando pushed with both hands against Enkai's guard, but the stronger ninja proved more than capable of holding his foe at bay with merely one hand on his own weapon. He used the other to throw a punch at his opponent's face. Ryusando only managed to avoid it by leaning backwards at the last moment. Enkai smiled with his carnivorous teeth, as if the battle had gone exactly according to his plan. With a flick of his wrist, he ripped Ink's sword from Ryusando's hands.

* * *

Redai gritted his teeth when an exploding note sent a nearly-bladed piece of stone into his right cheek. He had been fighting for only a few minutes, but his chakra was already starting to wear thin. The nearly four-dozen corpses on the ground around him were a testament to this. Of course, they had been Genin and Chunin, not approaching a fair match for someone like him. They had still taken effort, though, and their deaths had still cost something.

Now he faced down two Jonin. One wielded a kusari-gama, a shortened scythe on a chain with three parallel blades, like a claw. The other spent her time sending waves and blades of water at him. They had both stopped, and were whispering some strategy as Redai put his hands on his knees to catch his breath.

"Tired already?" The water-master taunted. "You're panting like my grandpa after a run."

_I know…_ Redai thought to himself. _And I'm only thirty-six. Too early to go out like this. _"Fine. You want me to kill you, bring it on."

The silent man behind the kusari-gama flung its claw toward Redai. The exhausted ninja ripped off his blood soaked bandage and watched as the weapon stopped abruptly in its tracks, hovering in the air mere centimeters before his eyes. He grabbed onto the weapon and yanked, pulling it cleanly from the astounded ninja's grip. Then it was his turn to attack.

A water jutsu had already begun to form - a massive drill or some similar thing; Redai didn't really care. He spun the chained claw over his head to build up its speed, and then flung it toward the attacker. He missed her exposed neck, but caught her sleeveless arm, shredding away three lines of skin and muscle in a burst of blood. She screamed in agony, but Redai knew it was over. The arteries were pouring out blood too fast - she had no more than a few seconds to stop the bleeding. He turned to the original owner of his stolen weapon.

A moment later, another exploding note detonated. Redai's sightless sight didn't need him to turn. She had blown off her arm entirely, cauterizing the wound at the same time. She was resourceful - the worst type of foe. With another panting breath, the blind ninja replaced the bandage over his eyes, hoping not to draw the last of his chakra away before he had won his battle.

* * *

Enkai kicked Ryusando cleanly beneath his right shoulder. At least one of his ribs produced a crack that seemed to satisfy the Mizukage. The same motion sent Ryusando flying over the desk. He crashed into the ground on the edge of the long green carpet, and rolled over with continued motion a handful of times before finally coming to a stop at the base of a tall aquarium. The recently broken rib screamed out in agony; Ryusando could feel a point of bone sticking out of his skin. It stained his right side red, pooling below him on the carpet.

The Mizukage picked up Ink's sword and played with it experimentally in one hand. "It's so light. You know, I really sent Ink to get killed by you; I knew you'd end up with the sword. But to think you'll end up dying on it anyway." He began to walk forward slowly. "It really is just a shame."

Each of Ryusando's breaths was accompanied by terrible pain. Over the top of that excruciating torture, he tried to focus. Every second brought Enkai closer, carrying in his hands death. Lying on the floor, Ryusando counted two kunai, three shuriken, and a wakizashi that he could bring to bear. None of them would be enough; Ink's sword would smash through them with ease, even without Enkai's superhuman strength behind it.

* * *

Kensei's steel boat ran quickly over the waves, but maintaining its shape was draining the young ANBU leader. Even as he drew closer to Kirigakure, he looked desperately for an escape. It arrived over two more white crests and just a tiny bit deeper mists. A tiny, low boat manned by a single boy in a wide, conical rice hat. He pushed his craft along with a bamboo pole, oblivious to Kensei's presence. Guiding his boat toward the other vessel with a focused chakra, Kensei called out. "Hello, out there. Can I get a hand?"

The boy's eyes shot over suddenly, surprised. He gestured with his hand, as if pulling Kensei forward. For a moment, the boat rocked, and the boy grabbed onto its sides to maintain his balance. The choppy waters could easily have killed him.

Kensei stepped out of his boat, onto the rough surface of the water, and picked up the vessel which rapidly returned to its form as a sword. A quick few steps brought him to the small craft, and he climbed inside.

"Thank you, sir." Kensei bowed as much as the tiny vessel allowed.

"You are a… ninja? From Kirigakure?" The boy asked, seeming a little slow in the way he spoke.

"I…" Kensei glanced around, seeing only mists, and then nodded. "Yes. I need to return to the village soon. Can you take me to the nearest port?"

"My village… it isn't far. We go to there, then you can go to your village. Good?"

Kensei nodded, leaning back. "Excellent. I can pay you a little when we get back. Now, what are you doing all the way out here?"

"Fishing." The boy answered. "What about you?"

Kensei smiled to himself. "Hunting. What's your name, boy?"

"No names. Not in our village. They bring spirits. I'm called Weasel."

Kensei nodded, and then allowed himself to fall asleep. "Wake me when we get in, then, Weasel."

Beneath the wide brim of his rice hat, the boy's eyes turned bright red. "I will be sure to." Itachi comforted his passenger.


	6. A Light in the Depths

Ink pressed Kisame's first guard in a nearly ten-minute duel. Neither had bothered moving on to the use of jutsu - no blows had yet been landed.

She kicked at Kisame's legs, but the wielder of Samehada didn't seem to notice. He pushed down against Ink's guard with his oversized weapon, and Ink struggled to hold him back. A distinct cracking noise filled the otherwise quiet room, and Ink knew exactly what it was. She leapt backwards, and discarded the damaged katana; another clean blow would clearly snap the blade off.

Kisame charged at her, needing only a single strike for a perfect kill. Ink answered by pulling from her waist Ryusando's scroll. A burst of chakra was all it took to activate the jutsu. "Hiton: Bakudan Tenpi." She knew from experience to close her eyes, but Kisame wasn't so fortunate. His attack swung wide and early; Ink didn't have to move to avoid it. As Kisame struggled to regain his vision, Ink drew a kunai and charged forward. In a single motion, she tackled Kisame and thrust the weapon into his shoulder.

"You could have killed me there." He muttered as she drew another kunai.

"It isn't that simple anymore, Kisame." She grinned behind her mask, feeling the fangs her own transformation had left her scraping lightly against old scars on her lips. Her kunai moved suddenly, trailing a long and painful, yet shallow line down Kisame's arm.

"Sad about Kodaru?" Kisame laughed, even as he lifted Samehada. Ink pushed with her knees of his chest, flipping backwards over the deadly weapon. She landed a few meters away, as Kisame sat up. "You knew it would happen. So why didn't you kill me?"

"Because I wanted you to feel the pain first." Ink answered, watching the blood drip down Kisame's arm. As the titanic shinobi ripped the remaining kunai from his shoulder, Ink opened Ryusando's scroll in his direction. She funneled a burst of chakra into the paper, and gasped when a massive bolt of lightning flew toward Kisame. He pointed Samehada straight into the burst, and smiled. Beneath the bandages, the sword _moved_. Ink watched it warily.

"Thanks for that." Kisame muttered, as Ink watched the wounds on his arm close before her eyes. A few purple scales ripped through the bandages around Samehada, giving the weapon the appearance a mottled and terrifying appearance. "Too bad you don't have your sword."

_Don't I? _As Kisame charged forward, Samehada raised for the kill, Ink clutched Ryusando's scroll a third time.

* * *

Redai narrowly dodged a pair of shuriken from the now one-armed Kirigakure Jonin, and slowly tried to channel his chakra. He had never before worried much about chakra; most often, he fought one on one and easily destroyed his opponents with his Kekkei Genkai. Now, though, there was an issued. It rang ever more through the landscape of his mind as he leaned over, parrying a rusty katana slash from behind with a better maintained kunai.

"Fine…" He growled to himself, before ramming the same kunai into his own upper arm. It was a tiny seal, tattooed there for the case of an emergency. At that moment, it certainly qualified. Waves of chakra flowed through him, replenishing his strength and vitality better than any night's sleep or week's rest ever could. No longer needing to hold back, the Amegakure missing-nin folded his hands into a set of rapid seals.

"Katon: Karyuudan no Jutsu!" Redai released a deep breath, and out of his mouth flowed an enormous, flaming mass of chakra. Bearing fangs and a serpentine head, the dragon incinerated the sword-wielding attacker before he even knew what had happened. It then dove for the one-armed kunoichi.

She answered with a rapid series of one-handed seals, before the ground beneath her cracked. A dozen spurts of water came together to form a shield of water. In a burst of smoke, Redai's jutsu was gone.

Now exhausted herself, the young Jonin girl fell to her knees. "I concede."

Redai nodded. "I can respect that." He slowly pulled his own kunai out of his bicep, and let the bloody weapon clatter to the floor. "Go. I won't kill you."

She shook her head. "A Kirigakure ninja doesn't run away." She slowly, painfully rose to her feet, formed a seal in her remaining hand, and ran toward Redai. As she moved, a sword of water slowly formed in her hand. She leapt up, high over his head, hoping the sun behind her would blind him, even through the thick mists of the village. It would have worked, too, on any other ninja. But against the blinded eyes of Redai, she found herself choking on his right hand. The force of the blow had put his fingers below the skin of her neck, and he began to close his grip.

"Too bad. Nobody ever said you had to be a Kirigakure ninja." His fingers finished their motion, crushing her throat entirely. With a casual flip of his hand, Redai discarded the corpse, and began to wonder where all the other ninja had gone.

No sooner had the thought entered his mind than a full team of masked ANBU appeared before him.

"Surrender, and you'll get to die easier." The leader told him.

"Does that _ever _work out for you?" Redai asked, flicking the blood off his right hand, and then tightening it into a fist.

* * *

Enkai lifted Ink's sword in one hand, and his own crooked katana in the other. Together, they were a killing combination. Ryusando's broken rib cried for release, but the wounded ninja's focus was on the Mizukage. His hands desperately clutched a pair of shuriken - his last line of defense against the man he had planned to assassinate.

Both swords rose toward the ceiling, and both swords came swinging down with inhuman strength. The end had come. Stubbornly, Ryusando refused to give in. He brought the throwing stars up, with his hands through the rings in their centers, hoping that somehow he would block the killing blows.

In the blink of an eye, and a burst of smoke, the odds changed. Ink's sword disappeared from Enkai's hand, and Ryusando's katana clattered to the floor in its place. Enkai's crooked sword stopped against Ryusando's shuriken, and the missing-nin claimed his own sword with his free hand. Not wasting a moment, he spun the sword around and thrust it toward the Mizukage's heart. He was too close, and the attack too sudden, for any normal ninja to evade.

The Mizukage, however, was no normal ninja. The unnatural alacrity of his inhuman form more than easily moved him clear of the otherwise lethal attack. Having put too much force into the stab, Ryusando's arm carried around, shattering the fish tank he was leaning against. Water spilled across the floor, washing away some of the bloodstains that were accumulating beneath him.

"Bad move." Enkai calmly connected his fingertips, despite the sword perched between his palms. Then the fingers moved. Sixteen seals passed, although Ryusando's vision failed to catch them for the pain in his side.

"Suirou no Jutsu." It was a famous technique, a hallmark of the Swordsmen of Kirigakure. Ryusando lunged forward as the water rose up around him, but his motion was futile. Trapped in a ball of water, he held his breath.

"I think I'll just let you sit there. Drowning is good for the soul, they say." Enkai laughed, his shark teeth clicking all the while. He walked slowly toward his desk, and didn't look back until he heard the bubbling. The glance was just in time for him to bring up his sword, parrying an attack from a suddenly recovered Tohiryuu Ryusando. They exchanged four blows too fast for the untrained eye to see, and then Enkai used his greater strength to knock Ryusando's weapon away. His foot moved like lightning, driving into - and through - Ryusando's chest. The clone glared, and then reverted to its base form. A sudden burst of lightning stunned the Mizukage, and threw him backwards.

From the shadows of the room, Ryusando came at him again, again wielding his katana. Enkai narrowly deflected the blow and thrust out his hand, shouting without the use of seals. "Tachikiri no Jutsu."

From that hand, a deep mist began to fill the room. Barely a moment later, Enkai was no longer visible amongst the mists.

"You should be proud. I thought I had you when I broke your rib. You've gotten me to use my strongest technique. But now you lose."

Ryusando's blank eyes desperately searched the gray mist, looking for his opponent.

"This isn't the usual mist concealment, though. My sword can cut anything in the mist, no matter where it is."

Glass shattered somewhere within the room, followed by the slashing of a sword through the empty air.

"My fish? Please, Ryusando. I'm not so attached to them. But if that's all you can do to harm me…" Glass broke again, followed by two more slashes. "…This is truly pitiful."

"I'm sure it is." Ryusando answered, thrusting his broken sword at Enkai's back. Enkai blocked the attack with ease, and then spun. The hooked end of his namesake katana thrust into Ryusando's throat, to seemingly no effect.

"What?" Enkai leapt backward to avoid another attack, landing on the low ground of the room. His feet met the ground with a dull splash from a shallow level of water. Two massive explosions in the back of the room accompanied a shattering of glass, and the water rose to the Mizukage's ankles. Ryusando walked forward on the slightly raised ground where Enkai's broken desk rested, and shook his head.

"Hiton Bunshin." His form exploded, and even in the dense mist, Enkai's vision was suddenly burnt away. Ryusando's voice came from the back of the room. They aren't like most clones; there isn't any solid mass to break with an attack."

In the mist, the sound of a blade cutting toward flesh was clearly audible. So was the subsequent clash of blades that marked Ryusando's parry. The missing-nin for Sunagakure continued to speak. "I'll ask you once. Why did you want me dead?"

"Heh… You think you've won? You're the injured one here-" Enkai's words were cut off by the painful stink of a sharp and potent shock to his ankles.

"You're standing in eight centimeters of salt water. An excellent conductor. My natural element is lightning. I think the winner is completely clear here." The mists began to fade as Ryusando walked forward, his hands crackling with yellow lightning. "So I'll ask you again."

"You can't break me." Enkai's body then screamed for release, as Ryusando allowed the electricity to flow into the water that his feet hovered a few inches above.

Ryusando didn't say anything in response - taunting before an execution was the mark of a sociopath. Instead, his broken sword cleanly decapitated the late Mizukage. As the shark-faced head and gray-skinned body slowly fell into the water, the victor of the battle limped slowly over to the broken desk of the defeated, clutching his side as he went. What he needed, more than anything else, was an answer.

* * *

Satetso Kensei stepped off the tiny boat of the young fisherman. He had been led to a tiny cove, where a path of steep switchbacks led to a man he had no desire to meet. Half his mind; half his very soul cared for the man, and in some vague way, Kensei knew that he was the last person in the world who truly thought of him that way.

The other half of Kensei's soul wanted vengeance. In the end, it was the ninja within him that won; the tool blindly heeding the bidding of its cold master. Hundreds of kilometers away, the Kazekage's influence still won out.

Tohiryuu Ryusando had to die.

Kensei's feet found themselves walking up the road, led by the young boy. They would find their way to Kirigakure, and then it would all be over.

* * *

Ink's black sword clashed against Samehada, and behind her mask, Ink smiled. This was more like it. She pushed up against the larger, heavier weapon, giving her just enough force to deliver a swift and powerful kick to Kisame's core. A staggered Kisame fell back, and Ink leapt forward. Her blade was now on top; she had the advantage.

The whistling of a kunai was all Ink heard before her mask fell away from her face. Then came a single painful word, and darkness.

"Tsukiyomi."

* * *

Tohiryuu Ryusando limped up to Obindo Redai's side, even as the latter flung strangled a Kirigakure ANBU ninja with his bare hands.

"Where's the girl?" Redai asked, without turning around.

Ryusando grunted. "I didn't think you cared."

"I don't." Redai answered, as the ninja finally died. "But you're hurt, so I was wondering if she got killed." He stood up, and then wiped his hands against each other as though ridding them of some corruption. "Where's the money?"

"Back…" Ryusando's answer was never finished.

A pair of steel boots collided with the cold stone ground, breaking it. Then the steel flowed up from the boots, liquid yet alive, revealing a pair of plain black sandals. The steel flowed up loose black pants, across a gray tactical vest with a golden sash running from hip to shoulder, and then down a muscular arm. Finally, it began to solidify again, this time as a katana.

"Kensei." Ryusando glared. "Listen to me…"

"No!" Kensei lunged at Ryusando, blade in hand. Ryusando threw himself out of the way, still clutching his bleeding ribs. A smooth, blank face cringed in pain with the motion.

"Hiton: Bakudan-" Spit and blood flew from Ryusando's mouth, accompanying a suddenly reformed steel boot colliding with his jaw. He hit the ground, and bounced from the force. By the time he had come to a stop, Kensei was above him, planting a firm foot atop his ribcage.

"Goodbye." With that word, Kensei kicked down.

His foot met stone, much to his surprise. That had not been the problem; what he had missed was the flesh that should have been between the two.

"You know where to find me." Ryusando muttered from behind him, panting as he spoke. Kensei turned, extending his hand, and an enormous steel spear flew through the air at an impossible speed. It didn't find its target, however; Ryusando was gone.

Kensei looked up at Redai, and then shook his head. "Hope you never see me again." The katana in Kensei's grip became a pair of gauntlets. With a single, calm _Ram _seal, and a puff of smoke, the Sotaichou was gone.

* * *

Kisame watched Ink fall, and he slowly pushed himself up. "Who are you?"

"Now? I am the Yondaime Mizukage."

Kisame recognized the boy with the raw stitching under his right eye. Yagura, they called him. The Jinchuriki of the Three-tailed Beast. He stepped out of the shadows. With no further hesitation, Kisame lifted Samehada. Killing Ink would be a pleasure he had long since been denied.

"Stop."

Surprised, Kisame glanced back into the shadows. The voice had been different then, coming from deeper within the darkness. Amongst the shadows, he saw a glowing red eye.

"She is still useful to us." The figure told him, stepping out of the shadows.

"So you're the real Yondaime Mizukage. Controlling him so soon after he takes his office. Who are you?"

"Uchiha Madara."

Kisame knew the name, of course; every educated ninja did. That also meant that, almost on instinct, he didn't believe it.

"I can see you don't believe me." Madara noted, his Sharingan narrowing. "But it is still the truth. You will serve me, now, Kisame. You will be a member of the Akatsuki." The shadowed figure moved suddenly, and Kisame found himself catching a ring and a long black robe, embroidered with red clouds.

Kisame laughed. "Fine… _Madara_. What do you want me to do?" Kisame didn't know that the thought had been forced on him; that his acceptance of the idea had come not from his own mind, but from a red, spinning eye.

"Travel to the dock near the ruins of the Suidon Temple. There, you will meet your partner - Uchiha Itachi. He is like you, in a way. He massacred his comrades; his own family. Now he and I are the only two Uchiha left."

Kisame stared at the shadows and the eye.

"And then what?"

"He knows what to do. Go. I will deal with… _Ink_."

* * *

**Tachikiri no Jutsu - Art of the Sword Mist**


	7. Death of the Third Kazekage

Redai sat down at the end of a Kirigakure bar.

"What would you like, sir?" A tall, grey haired bartender asked.

"Your strongest. I don't care what it is."

"Yes sir." The bartender muttered, fetching an unlabeled bottle and a tiny glass.

"No, something larger than that." Redai ordered. The bartender stared at him, before setting a full-sized glass in front of Redai and filling it to the brim with the drink. Redai slipped him a thousand Ryo, far more than necessary for the drink. Then, in a single fluid movement, he drowned the cup. It was fiery and sharp, and took only a moment to calm him. He slumped down in the chair, stared at the doorway, and started counting slowly, waiting for the inevitable.

It took a count of seventeen for Ink to throw open the door, devoid of the white mask she had worn every moment since they fled Amegakure. Her enormous sword was gone, though Redai noticed what seemed to be its handle protruding from her belt. He waved to her, and she nodded, approaching.

"How's it going?" He asked, still slumped back in his chair.

"I…" She shook her head. "Honestly, I have no idea. Ryusando told me that he wanted to appoint Yagura to be Mizukage… I didn't even know he had heard of the kid. He's the Three-tails Jinchuriki."

Redai's eyebrow rose up from beneath the bandage on his face. "So… instead of putting youin a position of power, where he could have influence over an entire village, he just pulled some kid out of his _ass_ and forgot all about you?"

Ink shrugged. "I guess so."

"He said he hadn't seen you when I talked to him." Redai's brow creased. "I think he's trying to cheat me."

"He offered to _pay _you?"

Redai broke out laughing at Ink's question. "Do I look like an idealist?"

"Not really…"

"I'm a mercenary." The blind ninja responded as Ink's voice trailed off. "And I'm beginning to suspect Ryusando doesn't have the three-hundred million Ryo he owes me."

"So what do you want to do?"

"Go hunting." Redai answered. "Wanna come?"

* * *

Three days passed in relative calm as Satetso Kensei made his way back to his home village. First over the ocean in a tiny boat he stole from the Kirigakure docks. Then through the forests south of Konohagakure, where he wouldn't be detected. He crossed once more through the rains and the rivers of Amegakure, avoiding the attention of the cloaked figures overhead. Finally, Kensei returned to the deserts of his home.

Ryusando's words would have seemed vague to a casual onlooker, but to Kensei, they were crystal clear. The missing-nin had been right - Kensei knew exactly where to find him.

Sunagakure was a massive rocky outcropping in the distance when a dozen white-clad ANBU soldiers fell into formation around him. He kept walking, and they began to move with him, watching the horizon as if he might have a team of enemy ninja trailing him. Kensei was acutely aware of the reason for this practice; Ryusando had once deliberately led a Konoha team into the desert, during the war. He waited until they were lost amongst the dunes, and then he hunted them one by one. One of them had nearly escaped, however. It was only one of the man's insane attempts at revenge that had changed the protocol of the Sunagakure ANBU.

"Did you kill Tohiryuu-sama?" One of the ninja around Kensei asked.

"Watch your tongue." Kensei snapped. "He isn't Tohiryuu-sama. He isn't even Tohiryuu-san. He's just a traitor. A missing-nin. A murderer. A black blot on _our _reputation. And today, in our own village, I'm going to kill him."

"He's here? Now?"

"Yes." Kensei answered. "And he's going to die. By my hand. _Alone_."

"Sotaichou-sama, I understand if you think-"

"Don't try and talk me out of it." Kensei's feet stopped cold in the sand. "None of you know me well enough to understand this, so I'll make it simple. Ryusando was my Jonin Sensei. I trusted him, and he taught me. Just the two of us. He was the only family I ever had, besides my grandfather. Satetso Kendo. The Sandaime Kazekage."

A couple of the ANBU turned away, trying not to match the scrolling gaze of their leader. Kensei heard one of his men gasp as he continued. "Ryusando killed my grandfather. He damaged everything I represent. So when I tell you that I will kill him, I don't want to hear about why I shouldn't try and take him on one on one. I don't want to hear about the rules. I know the rulebook. I was there when _he _wrote it. I'm going to have my revenge, and then no one else will ever need to hear about Tohiryuu Ryusando ever again. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Sotaichou-sama." Twelve voices chimed in unison. They were the last words Kensei spoke to his escort. The massive rock walls of Sunagakure rose up around him as he walked. He ignored them, and was only vaguely conscious of the disappearance of his escort.

He walked through the streets much more slowly than he had before. Along the winding roads he traveled, until he came to a small and familiar shop, beneath a blue awning. A kunoichi in an eye patch smiled at him.

"So… our new Sotaichou is back."

"Idari." Kensei responded bluntly. "I need two swords." He was using her, in a way he had never been comfortable with. It was Ryusando's favorite way of dealing with people - abusing infatuation. The ANBU Sotaichou had no feelings at all for the one-eyed sniper and weapon maker. But he was all too aware that she fancied him. That would get him what he needed.

"So blunt, Kensei? Can't we talk a bit first? You haven't been back in the village for days, and…"

Kensei nodded. "I don't have time, Idari. I'm still on the clock."

"Fine." She told him, with a hurt tone in her voice. "Your usual Dai-Katanas?"

The Sotaichou began to nod, and stopped halfway through the motion. "No. Something shorter; faster. But heavier, if you can do that."

Idari looked under her table and smiled. "I think I have just the thing." She produced two thick, curved swords on the table. Kensei had never seen their kind before.

"They're called Dao. A favorite of Tea Country mercenaries. Much heavier than a Katana, though they aren't nearly as resistant to sideways force."

Kensei picked up the weapons, spun them in his palms to get a feel for their weight, and then placed them on his back, where they hung without straps or sheathes.

"Goodbye, Idari." Kensei broke suddenly into a run, before she could answer. He went further down the side road, rapidly approaching the stone wall protecting the village. When he reached it, he set his feet against its surface, and began to run up the sheer face of the rock without losing a step. Nearly halfway up the wall was a man-sized hole. That was where he would find Ryusando.

* * *

_It was eight years ago to the day that I first set eyes on Sensei's home. It was a tiny building, perhaps large enough for a kitchen and a bathroom, with nothing else. It's back wall collided with the stone of the village's protective border._

"_Now, Mandaro…" His eyes had focused first on my companion, a young, rough boy from a family of Taijutsu specialists. He had broken that tradition, however, and taken up the art of Puppetry. "Yuru…" Our team had a medical specialist, something all too rare in those days, before the Great Shinobi war. "And Kensei…" To this day, I do not know why he always named me last. But every time he addressed us as a group, he would always use that order. At least, until I was the only one left._

"…_This is my house. We will use it as a meeting ground before and after each mission." With that, he pushed open the door. It was a tiny apartment, with his sleeping mat unceremoniously stuffed in the corner, and a small kitchen against the left wall. A doorway hid a tiny bathroom to the right. It was hardly big enough for the four of us together. Ryusando seemed oblivious to the constraint. He walked directly the smooth white wall opposite us, which he pushed against without a word. Slowly, a panel slid open, revealing a spiraling staircase rising into the stone of the village wall. Our Jonin master walked slowly up the stairs. After a moment, we realized he meant for us to follow him, and we rushed up the stairs to catch him. _

_High above the ground level, we found a massive cavern carved into the stone. A fine, thin lawn grew over the ground, and a huge waterfall ran out of the wall on one side, across the room, and into the other. A few sparse boulders and pits were spread across the landscape, making it look almost like a battlefield. "This is where we will spar, and where I will teach you the Jutsu of a great ninja." And then he ran at us. That was the second time I fought Sensei. The same battlefield would mark the last time as well._

* * *

"So… you finally came." Ryusando sat atop one of the rocky outcroppings beside the river. He held in his hand a stick, with which he traced a seal in the dirt. "Three days is a long time to wait." He was dressed in all white: a loose, v-necked shirt stained below the right shoulder with blood from a broken rib. Loose white pants. No belt. No weapon pouches. No sheathes or ribbons to hold swords or knives.

Kensei drew the swords from his back, which let off a long slow rasp despite their lack of sheathes. At the same time, he glanced around the room. Ryusando had been busy; nearly two-hundred of his strange seals were drawn across the ground.

"I hope you enjoyed it." The Sotaichou snarled. "I'll give you one chance to surrender."

Ryusando looked up, his white eyes meeting Kensei's oaken brown. "Kensei, listen to me."

"No, Ryusando. Don't bother trying to tell me it wasn't you. I _saw _the body." Kensei leapt at Ryusando, his Dao ready for blood. Ryusando stared up at the oncoming blades, and then disappeared without further comment.

"Damn it." Kensei shouted as his new swords cut into the dirt. "Stop your Shunshin tricks and fight me."

"Two swords was never your style… and you didn't make them yourself." Ryusando rose slowly, turning around to face Kensei. It was the first time the two had truly spoken in four years, and Ryusando was surprised to find that his former student was taller than him.

Kensei threw both his swords at Ryusando. The missing-nin watched them fly forward, ready for them. Kensei had aimed well for the unbalanced weapons; Ryusando tilted his neck to the side, narrowly avoiding one. The other, aimed for his heart, Ryusando snatched out of the air.

The blade of the weapon exploded into a dozen shards of pointed metal. Ryusando saw the motion and reacted on instinct, throwing the weapon away. Still, three of the shards pierced his right forearm. He clenched his teeth to contain the pain, and looked up. Kensei had moved quickly. His fist, wrapped in a thick steel gauntlet, bashed into Ryusando's cheek. The missing-nin heard his own jaw break. Kensei didn't show any happiness for his victory as he pulled back his guarded hand for another attack. Ryusando wrapped his right hand around the incoming attack, and thrust with his left. An open palm his Kensei's extended elbow, but without enough force to break the limb. The ANBU Sotaichou shook his head. "Nice try." His foot drove toward the still-open wound in Ryusando's side. Once more, the vulnerable ninja disappeared.

A few feet away, his feet fell on a round seal, and his footprints ruined the careful etching on the dirt of the cave floor. His fingers wrapped into a tight seal. Two bursts of invisible chakra echoed around him; forces Kensei noted only from the loose dirt that suddenly flew away from Ryusando. The missing-nin grabbed his jaw and slowly forced it back into place.

"The Celestial Gates?"

Ryusando nodded, pulling the shards of metal from his arm. Their wounds clotted, stopping their bleeding, but Kensei could tell from the way he held his arm that the damage was still present beneath the surface. "Kyuumon: The Rest Gate. Ready to listen, Kensei?"

The Sotaichou narrowed his gaze, and threw his fingers together. He didn't show surprise that the opening of the gates had healed Ryusando; such emotion would be viewed as weakness.

_Bird, Dragon, Horse, Serpent, Dragon, Hare, Bird, Monkey, Ox_

"Satetsu Kai!" Kensei opened his mouth. Out poured a thousand tiny grains of iron and steel, which floated like a mist in front of him.

Ryusando stared coldly with blank, white eyes. "Your grandfather's Kekkei Genkai." Seemingly from thin air, Ryusando produced a glass kunai, which he flung into the air, before beginning a set of his own seals.

_Ox, Bird, Dragon, Bird, Dog, Tiger, Dragon -_

Kensei's left hand gestured to Ryusando, heralding the motion of the iron sand hovering in the air before him.

"Bakudan Tenpi No Jutsu!" Ryusando stated. A flash of brilliant light filled the room, originating from Ryusando's clenched fingers. When it cleared, Ryusando noted that a thin blindfold of steel covered Kensei's eyes. After a moment, it moved away from his eyes slowly.

Ryusando smiled, dropping his fingers into a _Serpent_seal. The glass kunai that he had tossed into the air released another sharp beam of light directly at Kensei's eyes. He shut them quickly, but the damage was done. Ryusando charged forward as his pupil stood, blinded. At the last moment, a smile spread across the boy's face. Ryusando rammed out an open palm, slamming it into Kensei's chest. He disappeared in a puff of smoke.

_A Bunshin…_

Ryusando ducked, just in time to avoid the severing of his head by a flying sword.

"Not bad_,__traitor_." Kensei noted, cracking his knuckles.

* * *

_He guided us through many lessons in our youth, and at that moment, one of them popped into my head._

"_You will most likely not have a fight of this magnitude for some time, but I felt it best to teach you this: in a battle between highly ranked Shinobi, the opponents typically follow a specific pattern. Combat will begin with each side using their simpler moves of any form in an attempt to test their opponent and analyze their style. Whether someone ducks under a kunai or catches it and whether someone throws a shuriken or a senbon… these are important clues that tell immense amounts of information to a well trained ninja. After that, the opponents will usually begin to attack each other with Taijutsu, combined with basic techniques such as Bunshin, Shunshin, and basic Genjutsu. This is a relatively safe phase, but still extremely important. The more physically fit of the ninja will enter the next round at an extreme advantage in terms of stamina and chakra."_

* * *

Ryusando grunted. Then he slid his legs into an open position, letting his palms gather chakra.

Kensei had seen the style used many times, though it was impossible for him to use it himself. Jyuuken; the Way of the Gentle Fist. A stolen style from the Hyuuga clan of Konohagakure, though without their famous Byakugan, the attacks were limited to shredding organs, rather than sealing a foe's chakra.

Metal flowed like water over Kensei's arms, and he tightened his new gloves into a pair of deadly steel fists. He had never been a fan of the intensive, fancy styles, when a good punch to the jaw or the gut was all it took to win a battle.

Ryusando ran forward on unsteady legs; Kensei could see that the wound in his side would not heal from something as simple as the opening of the Celestial Gates. The Sunagakure ninja pulled back his right fist and set himself for a devastating blow. When the white-haired ninja came into range, Kensei made use of his larger size, thrusting downward toward the base of Ryusando's ribcage. The attack would normally be dodged by a duck, leaving Kensei to deal a blow to the face.

Instead, Ryusando reached out and wrapped his hand around Kensei's steel-sheathed wrist. Pulling his feet from the ground, he let Kensei's momentum carry the boy forward. The Sotaichou suddenly found the entire weight of his opponent's body hanging from his right arm. The force of his punch shifted suddenly, and with a single motion, Kensei's back hit the dirt. His next attack was a few dozen metal points, aimed for vitals across Ryusando's body. He knew he wouldn't get a killing blow; he expected his former Sensei to dodge. He was not disappointed.

"Listen to me." Although a casual listener would have heard no tone, Kensei noted the suddenly pleading in Ryusando's voice.

"Fine." Kensei pushed himself back to his feet. "Fine, Tohiryuu Ryusando. Are you going to tell me you didn't kill my grandfather?"

Ryusando clutched his side, not out of pain, but guilt. He feared to meet Kensei's gaze. "No… I…"

"You admit it?" The metal slid back up Kensei's arms, and his hands came together for a series of seals. "Then all that's left is a simple execution."

* * *

_The next phase is one of basic level Ninjutsu. This phase can be extremely chakra intensive, and will usually be the end of any ninja lacking in chakra control. Elemental Ninjutsu, as well as more Genjutsu, and Kawarimi are the most frequent attacks, although continued Taijutsu is not unheard of._

* * *

"Doryuudan No Jutsu" The dirt beneath Kensei's feet bulged and broke, before releasing a draconic figure of cracked and broken stone. An elemental 'Dragon Missile'; the most basic of direct Ninjutsu attacks, and also the most reliable. Unfortunately for Kensei, they were also the most predictable.

"Rairyuudan No Jutsu."Kensei stared in amazement as Ryusando's massive blue, crackling dragon annihilated his own, leaving only a trace of rubble on the ground. As soon as it had devoured its counterpart, Ryusando's serpent of lightning coiled itself around him and disappeared without a trace.

"Raiton chakra cancels Doton chakra." Ryusando's tone momentarily slipped into the patronizing sound of a disappointed teacher.

Kensei ground his teeth and slid his feet back. With a quick motion, he wrapped the flowing iron sand around his body into at least a dozen sudden shuriken. Ryusando answered by pointing his fingers side by side toward the closest weapon. "Chouyaku Raikou no Jutsu." A bolt of glowing electricity bounced from his fingers to the first shuriken, and then the second and third, continuing on until it reached Kensei. The boy's focus waned, and all of the shuriken fell out of the air.

"Damn it, Sensei! Satetsu Shigure." Despite the context, Ryusando smiled at the title he had received.

* * *

_The final portion is the most deadly, and the most risky to both ninja. At this point, neither is holding anything back. Kekkei Genkai, Hachimon, Kinjutsu… everything is on the line. Once the battle reaches this point, someone is going to die._

_Remember that. And never underestimate an enemy until you see them reach the final stage of battle."_

* * *

Ryusando's eyes shot wide as tens of thousands of tiny iron balls flew towards him at an impossible pace. Any one of them could kill him easily, and unlike the previous shuriken, they were too small and too numerous to stop with so simple a jutsu. Quickly blurring his way through a set of seals, he managed to pull off a normal Shunshin just in time to avoid the attack. His body flickered away from the oncoming rain of iron death, and landed to Kensei's right, panting and kneeling..

"Almost out of chakra yet, Sensei?" The Sotaichouasked.

Ryusando reached into his back pocket, drawing a handful of glass kunai. "You don't understand, Kensei." He sucked up a deep breath.

"I understand perfectly, Tohiryuu Ryusando. Satetsu Kaihou!" Kensei responded. Rising up from the dirt came massive walls of the tiny iron that made up his bloodline's namesake sand. They tightened around him, forming a sphere around the Sotaichou's body.

Ryusando stared at it, waiting for the inevitable attack, vaguely aware that it was the Sandaime Kazekage who had first created the jutsu.

Without any warning, the ball exploded, sending millions of the tiny iron balls all around the cavern. He would have dodged, had there been a safe place to go. Instead, he suffered through the balls as they shot through his arms, legs, and shoulders. Carefully, he avoided any that would have hit his chest or face. It didn't matter, though. He had nowhere to disappear to that the iron death did not fill; no more seals left undisturbed on the floor. With the wound in his side, he knew that if the attack did not kill him outright, the bleeding would knock him into unconsciousness.

He had to do what he was afraid of - he had to defeat Kensei. He knew where his weapon was; a single wooden senbon needle. His opening was through the metal balls. He lunged, suffering wounds from a thousand tiny strikes, careful to keep them from his organs. When the attack had passed, he found himself standing suddenly, bleeding, as Kensei panted before him.

"I win." Kensei told him.

Ryusando answered by throwing the senbon. Kensei's hand snapped up and caught it, feeling only the tiny prick of its wooden tip. That was all it took. The ANBU Sotaichou fell to his knees, and the strength of his limbs washed away like water. He collapsed to the ground.

"Kensei, I…" Then the blood flowing from Ryusando's countless wounds reached is peek, and Ryusando too hit the ground. Darkness overcame the teacher and the student.

* * *

Tohiryuu Ryusando didn't feel the wind in the cavern - a strange thing to witness, given that the only entrance to the cave was a tiny hole far removed from the desert wind. A tiny piece of blank paper fell from his pocket. That paper began, suddenly, to fold itself into a flower. A moment later, it continued to fold, multiplying, into the form of a woman.

Konan shook her head, without words, and channeled to her hands a simple healing chakra. She slowly tucked away the piercing rib in Ryusando's side, and then filled the holes in his flesh. And as she moved, Ryusando stirred. Slowly, he turned his head to the side, and then his eyes opened.

"Good morning, Ryusando-kun."

Any other ninja might have suddenly attacked her - she was an Amegakure kunoichi who stood over him in a room he did not recognize. Ryusando, however, knew better.

"Konan?" He asked.

She smiled, gesturing to her hair. Behind the façade of her friendliness, she was disgusted to play the role of the petty, naïve little Chunin that Pain had given her - deity or not. But it was a role she had to play, and she would play it well.

"You kept my flower."

Ryusando's hand touched his pocket, and he smiled. "Yes, I did… Is that how you found me?" His mind told him that she was a tracker, and therefore stronger than he had first believed. A Jonin, most likely.

"Of course. Can you stand?"

Ryusando nodded. "Why are you here?" He rose to his feet. "After your leader attacked me…"

"Pain isn't my leader." She lied. "He's a rebel."

It had been no fewer than three weeks since Ryusando had read the report that now recalled, word for word, into his mind. It detailed a civil war in the heart of Amegakure, between the infamous Hanzou of Salamanders and an unidentified second party. It was the reason Amegakure was not a current military threat, one of his ANBU Taichou had summarized. A village to be ignored or manipulated, but not to feel threatened by.

How wrong the man had been. Ryusando stared at her. "So he's the rebel leader, this… Pain."

"No one knows his real name…" Konan lied. "But Hanzou-sama told me to find someone who could help. And when you showed up in Amegakure, I thought you were the one I needed. So I gave you the flower. But then you disappeared. I followed you to Konoha, and then to the ocean, but by the time I had found a boat, you were gone."

Ryusando looked into her deep green eyes, and then to Kensei's unconscious form. "Watch over him. I will return here, soon, and then I will help you."

"Oh, thank you!" Konan yelled, leaping onto him with a wide, embracing hug and a deep kiss. The over-emotionalism would keep his mind from suspecting her true motives, but she felt her stomach turn at her actions. Never before had Pain used her like this - as nothing more than a tool.

Ryusando's eyes widened in shock, and then he slowly pushed her back. "No romance, Konan." He told her, reciting one of his own rules. "It destroys ninja more easily than any weapon."

"Who said anything about romance?" Konan asked, pushing down her gag reflex at the sound of her own words. "I just thought of having a little fun.

Ryusando's white, right eyebrow rose, and then settled again. It never crossed his mind that he might be taking advantage of her - his mind was only thinking that the offer was obviously a trap.

Konan smiled, and pushed him. Ryusando forced himself not to brace against the push, and he fell to the ground. Konan's last thought before she joined him was one of disgust. Never again.

* * *

Some few minutes, later, Ryusando pulled his white shirt back onto his now-woundless body. He felt the new round scars on his arms and the sides of his chest, but didn't care. They were only tiny drops in an ocean of ancient wounds, covering his body like a map. Konan stood beside him, wondering why his face had no such scars.

Kensei lay with his eyes closed, unable to speak or even move, but he was awake nonetheless. He heard footsteps approaching.

"He's not up." A familiar, but unrecognizable voice uttered. Female, Kensei noted, tucking it into the back of his mind for a later time.

"He's awake. Do you feel this, Kensei?" That was Ryusando's voice, Kensei realized. "The senbon I threw was poisoned. A paralytic."

Kensei found himself suddenly standing up, against his will, and his eyes fluttered open. Ryusando stood before him, fingers outstretched in the distinct form of a puppeteer. "This is what happened to your grandfather. Sasori poisoned him, and played with him as a puppet for nine years, until I found them. And when your grandfather used all his chakra to overpower the poison for a few seconds, he told me only two words. _Kill me._"

As abruptly as Kensei had taken his feet, he fell again to the ground. His eyes slid shut again, but Kensei could still hear Ryusando's last few words within the cavern.

"I'll find a healer, Kensei. Wait for me."

Then all was silence.

* * *

A dull knocking rapped on the door of Idari, a Sunagakure weapon smith. She had been eating, and didn't like to be disturbed.

"Who is it?"

"Kensei." Her boyfriend answered in an aggravated voice.

She threw her bowl aside, dropped her chopsticks, and ran. He had never come to her house before; she had always assumed he didn't really care about her. This was her chance. The door was there before her, and she tore it open, trying to look less excited as she did.

"You're here. Come on in, Kensei-kun."

Kensei stepped inside the door, and shut it behind him. Idari waited for him to speak, but found no words when the door shut.

"So… Kensei, it's a pleasure to have you, but…" A paper kunai was thrust into her throat, cutting off her words.

"Sorry." Konan muttered. "But Kensei-kun needs your help."

Idari gasped, trying to overcome the blood in her lungs. The woman before her wasn't Kensei. Then Konan severed her head completely.

And as the dead body slumped to the floor, Konan shook her head, and adopted a new form. Wearing Idari's face, she wrapped the dead body in paper and pulled it into herself. A gruesome way to dispose of the evidence, but she distrusted the Akatsuki's usual technique.

Satetso Kensei would awaken to the face of his lover, and all would be right in the world.

* * *

**Shunshin no Jutsu – Body Flicker Technique, Ninja often refer to it as simply 'a flicker' or 'flickering' due to the momentary blurring in the users body prior to their motion.**

**Satetsu Kai – Iron Sand Release**

**Doryuudan no Jutsu – Earth Dragon Technique**

**Rairyuudan no Jutsu – Lightning Dragon Technique**

**Satetsu Shigure – Iron Sand Monsoon**

**Satetsu Kaihou – Iron Sand: World Domination**

**Chouyaku Raikou no Jutsu - Jumping Lightning Technique**


	8. A Night in the Clouds

Ink and Redai in a small booth within a large and wealthy restaurant. They had been in Tanzaku Town, a small gambling establishment in heart of the Fire Country for several days, looking for some lead on Ryusando's whereabouts. The town was filled the brim with missing-nin, mercenaries, assassins, and secret keepers, hidden just out of sight of the large population of civilians and tourists. Just what the pair needed.

"You think he'll have my money?" Redai asked, downing a mug of the Earth Country's finest beer.

"Oh, shut up, Redai." Ink answered, as she sliced through a steak on a plate before her. She was paying for all their needs in the village, as Redai claimed to be completely broke, and she wasn't prepared to listen to him complain about their financial troubles.

A waiter walked up to the pair, dully noting Redai's blindfold and Ink's mask. "Can I get you two anything else? A desert menu perhaps."

"No, sir." Ink answered, before Redai could order another drink.

"Very well." Then, to Ink's abrupt surprise, the man sat down, and his face suddenly changed. "I'm glad I found you."

"Ryusando…" Ink smiled at him, before bringing back her hand and slapping him as hard as she could. Ryusando shook his head to recover.

"What was that for?" He asked in a condescending tone.

Ink wasn't really sure which of the problems he had caused her deserved the attack, so she spat out the first thought that came to mind. "I've been searching for you for three days, putting up with Redai's bullshit about money and beer and…"

Ryusando stared at her for a moment, as he rant wore down, before smiling. "You and I may get along better than I originally anticipated."

"That was a long sentence for you." She taunted.

Ryusando produced from somewhere beneath the table a briefcase, which he set in front of the two. He spoke as he spun the tiny wheels that controlled the locks. "For each of you - three-hundred million ryo." The money came in a pair of surprisingly small stacks of ten-thousand ryo notes. "I also need your help again."

"Is it the kid?" Redai asked. "That little punk who keeps chasing you?"

"He's my student." Ryusando explained. "And the Sunagakure ANBU Sotaichou. I fought him, and now I need to get him a healer."

Ink shook her head. "That's too easy, Ryusando. This is Tanzaku Town. Lady Tsunade is here."

"Tsunade would sooner rip out my heart than help me." Ryusando answered, dropping a rather thick steel-covered book onto the table. "I agreed to help end a civil war in Amegakure."

Redai dropped the mug from his hand, and foaming beer spilled all over the table, soaking into the corner's of Ryusando's book. "You know I can't get involved in this."

"Wait, Redai…"

"No." The man stood up, claimed his money, and walked away. Ink and Ryusando watched him go, wondering if they would succeed apart from him.

"Why's he so divided?"

"He's a mercenary, Ink. War is his business. That's why he was in Amegakure - he'd sell his services to the highest bidder."

Ink looked down at the massive book, and read the cover. _Bingo Book_.

"This is your Bingo Book? Its enormous!"

Ryusando flipped it open, seemingly at random, revealing a large page divided between three profiles. All three were ninja from Kumogakure. The mountainous cloud village was unfamiliar to Ink, who had never traveled to the isolated but powerful land.

The first of the three profiles depicted a man with dark skin and tall, blonde hair. His name was listed as simply J. Below him a woman with strange eyes, like those of a cat. Ink couldn't help but notice Ryusando's handwriting scrawled beneath all of the printing that would probably matter more to a battle with the kunoichi. Only one word was scribed there - _Jinchuriki_.

"You want us to run off with one of Kumogakure's Jinchuriki? I mean, we've already gotten away with killing a Kage, but now you're risking too much."

"Not her." Ryusando placed his finger below the picture of a third ninja. Another kunoichi, with brown hair and blue eyes. A beautiful face if Ink had ever seen one. But her glare was cold, even in the lifeless picture. She didn't smile. Ink's eyes continued their way down to her information.

**_Chitachi, Namita_**

**_Age: 34, Weight: 63.5 kg, Height: 178 cm_**

**_Rank: Civilian (Formerly, in-order: A-Class Missing-nin, Jonin, ANBU Taichou; all retired)_**

**_Position: Doctor_**

**_Ability Ranking: A-Class + (Sub S-Class, but consider to be Extremely Dangerous)_**

**_Affiliation: Kumogakure, Chitachi Clan*_**

Ink searched down for the footnote attached to the unknown family name, but found nothing.

"You want her for your doctor? Can't you get someone… easier to find?"

Ryusando shook his head. "Not for what I need."

* * *

"Leader-sama." Itachi greeted as he and Kisame's images appeared in the massive cavern that served as Akatsuki's primary headquarters.

"Itachi. Were you successful?" Pain did not seem entirely happy to see his newest recruit.

"Enkai is dead." Itachi explained.

Pain paused for a moment, before nodding. "I expected as much. This is better for us." Pain paused for a moment, and Kisame turned to leave. Itachi, however, anticipated Pain's continued explanation. "I was hoping you would kill Ryusando."

"Why?" Kisame asked. "He's just another shinobi. Isn't Konan using him…"

Pain turned slowly, leveling a hateful glare at Kisame. Itachi interrupted. "No, he is more, though he would never admit it. I doubt he even knows his own capacity. Regardless, Kirigakure is ours, and we can claim the Three-Tailed Beast whenever we wish."

"Then the plan begins." Pain cut the message, and smiled to himself.

* * *

It took four days to cross the mountains and reach Kumogakure, but Ryusando seemed to know his way. They were never once stopped by a guard or an ANBU patrol; either Ryusando knew a secret passage, or they were too afraid to approach. As they approached this second hidden village, Ink suddenly realized that she was probably in terrible danger. Having killed a Kage, her own village would most likely have set a price on her head - an incredibly large one at that.

Ryusando was not so focused on his path as Ink assumed; his thoughts were preoccupied with Kensei and Konan. Naturally, he didn't trust the woman, and especially not with Kensei's life. As his last surviving student, Ryusando needed the boy to survive.

"So… who is she again?" Ink asked as the two approached Kumogakure itself.

"Chitachi Namita. She's a renowned medic amongst some circles, although I doubt you'd have heard of her." The answer came from the smallest part of Ryusando's mind, which focused on his surroundings while his greater consciousness worried about Kensei.

"Why do you talk to me like that?" Ink snapped. Ryusando stopped, as if suddenly aware of his location. He led Ink along a thin path carved into the side of a mountain, which descended slowly into the narrow, mountainous valley that held the base of Kumogakure. It was a side path into Kumogakure, normally reserved for their own ninja, but Ryusando didn't really care. The main route was too public, and too guarded.

"I'm sorry… what did you say?"

"Don't act like you don't know!" Ink persisted, tearing off her mask to glare at him. Her fangs served to emphasize her anger. Ryusando merely stared at her for a few moments, while her hand slowly clenched and unclenched around the handle of her ridiculous sword. When she said nothing more, he turned back to his path, convinced that the conversation was over.

"Wait! I'm not done with you!" She shouted, running up to him.

"Then talk while we're on the way." He muttered, not bothering to turn around.

Ink followed after him. "This must be why everything that breathes wants you dead - you're an asshole!"

Ryusando turned again. "What did I do?" He asked again, perplexed by her seemingly unfounded complaints. Fifteen years as an ANBU Taichou, and later, Sotaichou, had taught him a specific way of thinking and speaking. He couldn't seem to figure out why it offended her.

"You…" Ink failed to find words, and merely groaned again.

"Did I say something to offend you?" He asked after a moment's silence, still walking the path toward Kumogakure.

"You're condescending. You talk down to me, like I'm… like I'm some Genin or something." She paused to shoot Ryusando a menacing glare. "I'm a Swordsman of Kirigakure. A Jonin. I don't need you looking out for me."

Ryusando nodded. "Fine."

"A 'sorry' would be great, too."

"Don't get your hopes up." Ryusando stopped. "Welcome to Kumogakure."

* * *

The hospital of Kumogakure was, like everything else within, a massive structure. It consisted of six separate buildings connected by a series of glass skyways. In and out of each building came visitors and doctors, the sick and the well, and occasionally even a team with a stretcher.

"So she's here?" Ink asked, as Ryusando held open a glass door for her benefit.

"Yes." He walked straight past the understaffed information desk without so much as a word, and began to climb a tall set of stairs. The path wasn't horrible, but it took a great deal of time to reach their destination. On the sixth floor, a long hallway led down to a pair of gray, plastic double doors. Chairs and potted plants lined the walls, but the only sign in the room was one that hung from the ceiling, simply labeling the area as the D-Ward.

Ryusando showed no notion of intimidation, and proceeded up to the doors.

"Tohiryuu Ryusando." A deep, decidedly male voice asked from a chair near the entrance to the D-Ward. "Fancy finding you here."

Ryusando stopped, and turned. "Kumanezumi Toi." He hadn't been expecting to find the large Konohagakure ninja so far from his home. A Jonin, in the medical ward of Kumogakure; something was wrong.

"I heard about what you did in Kirigakure." Toi produced a red aluminum can, which he cracked open the top of. A brown, fizzing beverage was poured down his throat before he continued. "So has she."

"She won't care." Ryusando told him, with absolutely no backing behind his words.

Toi laughed at Ryusando's words. "That's good, Ryusando. Really funny." Then the humor in his tone was suddenly gone. "Stay away from Chitachi Namita."

"You're afraid she'll get hurt?" Ryusando spat back.

And then, instead of the hollow laughter from before, Toi actually folded at the waist, spilling a bit of his drink on the seats beside him. And he laughed, and squinted his dark eyes, and laughed some more. And then, when it was all done, he set down his drink, and he stood up, and he stared Ryusando in the eyes. And he spoke.

"I'm not afraid she'll get hurt. I'm telling you that _you _will."

In answer, Ryusando pushed through the double doors. Ink darted forward to catch up as they swung shut behind him, but Toi held out one of his lengthy arms to stop her.

"He doesn't know what he's getting into. Stay back for your own good."

* * *

Obindo Redai found himself back amongst the rainy towers of Amegakure, where he intended to return to his hiding place. Pain and Hanzou would never find him, hiding in plain sight. That was how it had always worked, and how he assumed it would continue to. To his disappointment, he was utterly and coldly incorrect.

He opened the door to the long-abandoned clothier's shop that he called home to find a figure in a dark cloak and hood, staring away from him.

"You are brave to show yourself here, Redai."

"Madara?" Redai's hand moved to his bandage, but the Uchiha warlord was faster.

"Don't waste my time with your toy eyes, boy." Redai felt a gloved hand press over his eyes, and a kunai take it's place against his throat.

"Fine." The mercenary muttered. "Kill me."

"Coward." Madara threw aside his kunai and shoved Redai to the ground. "Listen closely, Redai. You will go back to Ryusando. You will help him. You will earn his trust."

"And then what?"

"I'll find you." Madara answered, before a spiraling vacuum pulled him away into nothingness.

* * *

Ryusando strode into the room, expecting some sort of special, armored facility for individual patients, and instead finding a rather normal hospital ward. Eight beds were separated by six white curtains. In the farthest corner, on the missing-nin's right, stood Chitachi Namita.

She wore a white doctor's coat over a pale green button-up shirt and black slacks. Her shoes were little more than thin leather slippers. No gloves. Short-cut nails with no paint or decoration of any kind held a pen and a clipboard. Her brown hair hung loosely all around her head to the length of her neck, parted carefully to keep it away from her eyes. Everything about her, from her stance to the careful scratching of her pen as she spoke to the figure in the hospital bed, said 'business'.

Ryusando couldn't have been happier.

"Whoever you are, I'll deal with you in a minute." She called, without looking up. It took Ryusando more than a few seconds to realize she was addressing him. He began to walk toward her slowly.

"Now, Hinata-chan, I understand you're troubled, but I need you to relax, and…" Namita caught glimpse of the approaching ninja. "Damn it, I'm busy..." Her voice trailed off. "Go away and I'll get to you soon."

"Forgive me for interrupting, Namita-sama, but I need your help. My name is-"

"Tohiryuu Ryusando." Namita interrupted, before shaking her head. "I'm sorry, Hinata-chan, but it would appear that some people think have no manners." Then Namita glared at Ryusando. "And it's Dr. Chitachi to you. What do you think you're doing in Kumogakure?"

"I was hoping you could help me. A friend of mine has been poisoned."

"Of course. I should have guessed." She turned back to the girl in the bed, who, Ryusando was surprised to note, was a Hyuuga of Konohagakure. Probably no more than four years old. "Hinata, I have to go talk with this man here quickly. Your friends are outside in the hallway. You'll be ready to go home soon."

Ryusando saw the little girl smile, and her face reminded him of Gaara, just a little. Gaara was young - so young - when Ryusando had been his teacher. Not even training Ninjutsu at that age; just math and reading and making friends, like any other little kid. And maybe Gaara looked up to Ryusando because the man didn't look at him like he was the monster that lived inside, and instead he was just a little boy who didn't have many friends. Ryusando knew he wasn't the first, and he knew he wouldn't be the last, so it had never bothered him before. But there, in that hospital room, looking at the little Hyuuga girl, Ryusando suddenly wished he had fought back against Arashi in his little mock trial, instead of giving in and just running away from everything his life had meant before that day. Then he could have been with his students more. They were wishful thoughts, though - nothing better.

It took Ryusando a moment to realize that he had been silently staring at the girl for nearly a minute, and Namita - Dr. Chitachi - coughed to signal her displeasure. She then set down her clipboard and pen on a bedside table, grabbed Ryusando by his arm, and pulled him away from the girl. "Now, Ryusando, what do you really want?"

Ryusando didn't know what to say. So he shook his head to clear his thoughts; it was a stupid looking gesture, but it had always worked. Then he started talking.

"I need your help with a student of mine. A friend."

"I won't help you." She told him bluntly. "I don't do that sort of thing anymore." She turned away from him, walking toward another nearby patient.

"I don't need a ninja." Ryusando answered. "I need a doctor."

She stopped for a moment, and then finally asked the question. "What happened to him?" She didn't look up from the patient, a sleeping elderly man with a graying beard. She felt his elbows, and his knees, all without waking him, and then walked back to Ryusando. "Well?"

"Poisoned."

She shook her head, almost sounding disappointed. "You don't really need me for that, do you?"

"Would I come if I didn't?"

Namita glared at him silently for a moment, and then walked over to her clipboard, where she began to write. "I can give you a prescription for an Extractor Seal, and I can write a recommendation for an herbalist I know in Waterfall Country. That's all you're getting from me." She ripped off a piece of paper and handed it to him. Ryusando glanced down at it as she continued to talk.

"Now get out of here. We're in the middle of a political crisis, and I can't put up with your interruptions."

Ryusando barely registered her words as he walked out of the room. The paper had said something completely different.

**_Can't talk, being watched. Meet at Sexy Princess Bar, 2200 hours._**

* * *

"Now what? We came all the way to Kumogakure for nothing." Ink asked as she and Ryusando walked away from a small restaurant where the pair had shared dinner in an awkward silence.

"We'll get her." Ryusando muttered. In his mind, he still thought of Kensei. "You go find us supplies for the trip back to Suna." He looked up at a tacky neon sign. "This is the place." He muttered, pushing open the door with a sickening, unearthly creak.

It was a disgusting building, with a neon-pink sign and peeling, whitewashed cement walls. Rubber awnings - black, lined with the same provocative and overt pink as the sign. No windows. Not a single one. Presumably, there was a door at the back. It wasn't the place Ryusando would have picked, but it was secure, and he trusted her to show up.

"The _Sexy Princess_ Bar?" Ink asked. "You don't strike me as the type…" She kept talking for a moment, but Ryusando didn't hear. He was busy with something else. Was it the wind, or the night sky, or…

"Go find the supplies." He muttered, stepping inside. "I'll find you soon." He was an hour early, he knew, but he wanted some time to think. She was not a pacifist, but she didn't believe in unnecessary killing - murder, as she would put it.

"Great. Go in alone, why don't you?" She muttered back, walking off. Ryusando ignored her comment, and focused on his surroundings. It was shoddy, and dark, like a bar without a regular crowd is. There was one other door, probably leading to a back room, because the building was bigger from the outside. The paint was peeling in here too. The floor was cement. A cheap plastic bar top, trying to pass itself off as wood, slid along one wall. And there were poles on a platform against the back wall, but there weren't any women, at all. Three men, each sitting by themselves, and a bartender. None of them looked up, save the man who was probably the owner.

"You from out of town?" The man asked. He had a short moustache, and he stood silently polishing glasses as he stared at Ryusando. He wore round glasses, with a short red vest and balding white hair. Ryusando nodded slowly. "What do you think of it?"

_The bar or the town…? _Ryusando wondered to himself. "The mountains are nice." He responded after a moment's hesitation, not meaning a word. He liked the desert better. Maybe just because it was home… or because it used to be.

"So… what can I get you?"

Ryusando ignored the question as the door creaked open again. In walked one man. This one man was all it took to break Ryusando's mood, and to focus him. He knew he would fight the man, but first they would talk. So Ryusando needed a drink.

"One of those drinks in the red cans… with tonic water." His mind thought back to Kumanezumi Toi, and his presence in Kumogakure. Somehow, all these things were related. A red aluminum can with a thin, curved white strip was placed on the bar, beside a square glass filled with ice and tonic. And he mixed them. The brown drink fizzed, and smelled of sugar, but the tonic was bitter, and they blended well together.

His name was Takatori, called C according to the strict code of Kumogakure Jonin. That made him the third strongest ninja in the village, after the Raikage - 'A', and the man's younger brother, the Jinchuriki of the Eight-Tails. Ryusando knew this Takatori, this C, better by the ANBU mask he wore, however. That mask, and its name, were Hawk, and it accompanied another title - the Sotaichou of Kumogakure. For eight years, he had been Ryusando's counterpart, as the two villages elite forces engaged in all manner of illicit subterfuge.

"Ryusando! What are you doing here?" Hawk asked, trying to put on a veneer of casual surprise. Ryusando didn't buy it; they were never really friends. Only associates. And you don't go looking for an associate just to catch up on old times; just friends.

"Cut the act, Takatori." Ryusando muttered without a hint of patience for the usual diplomatic games between them. "Did Namita send you, or did you get a glance of the note?"

"And here, I thought you might have lost your touch. Good to see you as _blunt_ as ever." Takatori sat down, glanced up at the bartender, who was back to polishing a glass. "Hey, man, get me a scotch." As the drink was being poured, he turned back to his old colleague. "So… what are you doing here?"

"Don't ask questions you know the answers to." Ryusando took a sip of his drink, and was pleased by the bitterness. The bartender had put in too much tonic on purpose. He knew what Ryusando wanted. He was good.

Ryusando found himself staring into his drink, wishing he let himself drink alcohol. And his thoughts were on Takatori.

"You're too young to do this." Ryusando muttered without looking up.

"You're insinuating I'll die if we fight."

"When." Ryusando corrected. "Unless you back down."

Takatori glared. "I'm not stupid. And you haven't been in a real battle in years. Just assassinating, and killing the B-Rank ninja and the C-Ranks, and-"

"I've been in two real fights in two weeks." Ryusando shouted, wondering why he felt the need to justify himself to this… this boy, who thought he could lecture his elder. Ryusando neglected to mention the other thing that was gnawing on his mind. _I would have died both times too… If they hadn't gotten overconfident. Enkai with the water, and Kensei with his killing blow. My skills are rusted… can I win here? On his turf?_

And then Ryusando was mad at himself. He'd broke the second rule: never doubt yourself. You can regret when you're dead.

"And you're getting old." Takatori finished.

"And you're a kid. You're too young to be a Sotaichou." Ryusando snapped back. "And I will kill you, young or not."

"Funny. I heard your boy was the Sotaichou now. Is he too young?"

_Kensei… of course he'd say that._ Ryusando didn't snap back at the comment. He didn't what was on his mind_. Takatori, thirty-whatever, might be older than Kensei, who was nineteen or twenty, or whatever age it was. When did I lose count?. That wasn't what mattered._

"Kensei understand what it means to be a ninja."

"He believes in killing? Is that what you're saying? I wonder who he learned that from?"

_Not me…_ Ryusando told himself. _I tried to teach him that for a year and a half, and he wouldn't have it. Then one day on the battlefield, and he learned the lesson better than I had known it._

"He does what he has to. He doesn't make juvenile mistakes, like getting caught trying to kidnap the heir to a Clan with a Kekkei Genkai."

"The Hyuuga girl? That wasn't me." Takatori saw the twitch of surprise on Ryusando's face. The elder Shinobi didn't care; he had put it there on purpose. Just one more step to making the man overconfident. "What happened to Ryusando the Spymaster, who knew more about me than I did?" It

"It's hard to keep up the bribes and the dead-drops for reports when you don't have a village anymore." I answered back.

"I'll take your word on that."

"So what about her?" Ryusando asked. "Did she screw me over to you, or were you watching?"

"Neither, actually. I'm paying off a favor, killing you. Well… paying off a favor, and maybe doing myself a favor too. Your head is worth a hell of a lot of money. You know that?"

"Is Kirigakure offering the most money now? Or is it still Konoha?" Ryusando's cynicism hid a darker secret though, and he felt it was about time to rattle Takatori's confidence. "Or will you turn my body into Arashi, and take his son in return?"

"What?" Takatori stood up suddenly, but Ryusando was faster. He flickered across the room, and leaned against the main door.

"You didn't give up when you had the chance. You know what the little kids say, right?" He was deadly serious, but a part of him wondered why he bothered with the taunting. It wouldn't really matter, would it? He could kill a confident, calm Takatori just as easily as a shaken, played-with one. He let his voice drop to a loud whisper. "I told you my secret. Now I have to kill you."

Takatori sighed. "And I was ready to take you up on your offer and walk away." He snapped, and the three men drinking by themselves were concealed by clouds of smoke.

Ryusando hadn't suspected that. Then a tiny voice in the back of his head scolded him and reminded him, forcefully, that everything was suspect.

Takatori turned to the bartender and smiled his most disgusting smile. "Sorry about this, but the village will cover the damages."

* * *

**_Ink_**

* * *

I was left to walk alone through the streets of Kumogakure. My long black sword hung over my back, but I didn't notice it's weight for my anger at Ryusando. How could he walk up to someone and expect them to simply walk away on everything they knew? It was not only preposterous, but stupid of him, and it irritated me that he had brought been wasting my time with something that he should have known wouldn't succeed. I didn't even have to hear their conversation to know that much. It was just the way Ryusando was: high, and mighty, and unbearable. I helped him once, yes, but I had a reason then. Suddenly, I found myself less sure. In the nighttime shadows, I had removed my mask. It was hard enough to see without the tinted glass eye covers. High above me, like the ringing of a bell, I heard a sword being drawn. It's not something most people would hear - they might think it a window being closed. But I lived in Kirigakure for far to long to take those sort of chances. I learned quickly, because there were only two types of learning from Enkai: fast, and too late.

So I asked myself if it could be the Kumogakure ANBU, but of course that didn't make any sense. So I looked up, and I saw two silhouettes against the cloudless, starry night sky. And one of them had a sword I had heard.

Something was happening, and the ninja in me wouldn't be satisfied without investigating. No doubt Ryusando would disapprove, but he could burn in Hell for all I cared. I gently took my sword off my back. _It _didn't make any noise, even as laughably large as I was keeping its form. But this mission called for a bit more tact. I placed the point of the blade against the ground and pushed down. And slowly, the obsidian flowed off.

People laugh when they hear that, you know? They think that you can't make a good sword out of a rock. People don't laugh when a rock sword is sticking out of them. Well… it doesn't stay in them for long, actually. Puffer fish poison, and all… _Dokutsume _would keep the blade poisoned. It always did.

The thick blade had become a longsword - an inelegant but effective weapon from the lands west of Iwagakure. And now that my weapon was ready, I ran up the side of the building next to me. Ducking over the top, I saw the pair of figures - they were a few buildings ahead, but changing _Dokutsume_'s form only takes a few seconds. So I started after them. All I could see were their outlines against the faint light of the city, and the glittering blade of the sword one of them was carrying.

Where they could afford to make noise, I had to be quiet. And they were faster than I was, leaping from building to building with ease. I had to flicker, just to keep up. But I knew my chakra pool was bigger - much bigger. That was part of the boon that came with the price of my fangs. I knew I could keep up forever. All I had to do was duck behind whatever generators and cooling units and clotheslines I could find.

Finally, the pair landed on the side of a huge apartment building. And I almost instantly knew where they were going, though I wasn't sure why. Call it instinct - I have those moments sometimes. They wanted the penthouse. So they started climbing slowly, using as little chakra as they could. They were expecting a fight. Now I could get close enough to see them.

One was wearing an ANBU mask, but the other was… different. I'm not totally sure I knew what I saw in him, but I knew he wasn't just some ninja; he was like Kisame, and Enkai… he was like _me_. He was a killer, a _real_ killer. He wasn't going to hesitate. And he was probably twenty-eight…

Why did that matter?

I leapt to a building on the right, and then across the street, and found myself on the wall around the corner from the two. And I didn't save my chakra - I threw myself up the building, as fast as I could. And then I stood on the roof, looking down on the balcony of the penthouse, in the shadows, and I waited. And I wasn't disappointed. They came, and one of them moved to pick the lock. And then the killer grabbed his shoulder, and I heard him say something, and then he called out.

"Namita, it's me."

And I wondered to myself if he were her lover… what would that mean? But he had come with a companion. Armed. In the night. Through the balcony.

And I heard the door open, and I wondered if I could fight in such small quarters, and I wished I had made _Dokutsume _into a kunai or a wakizashi instead of a katana - but at least I could fight.

But Namita walked out, and they didn't' attack. Namita stared at the killer, and he stared back at her. It was the first time I had ever seen her, there, in the night. She was still wearing her white coat, but she had a… I think it was a statue in her hand. But she didn't hold it as a weapon, she held it as an offering, or something.

And the killer said "Namita, where is he?"

And Namita answered "I don't know, Teisei. Why are you here?" And she was angry… really angry. She didn't like him, but I knew it wasn't for the usual reason. At least, I knew she didn't want to kill him. She hated him, but not that much.

And she had lied… she knew where Ryusando was. Still, I didn't know when they had agreed to meet. Maybe he had been early. I couldn't imagine her meeting him at the _Sexy Princess_. It didn't seem like her, even for the mere twenty seconds that I had seen her. She was all business.

"Because we have to ask you for one last favor, Namita. One last favor and the family will never bother you again."

Family? So he was her brother… And their clan was… what were they? I'd never heard of the Chitachi clan before.

"You want me to kill him?" Namita asked. "Don't be an idiot. No amount of money-"

And he cut her off. "It isn't for the money, Namita. You don't follow bounties, I know… but he's worth the Kazekage's son."

And Namita was quiet, for a long time.

"It's just what we need."

"I'm not sure I can do it."

"Think about it, Namita. But just remember who comes first when all's said and done." And with that he was gone.

She wanted to kill Ryusando… did she? I wasn't really sure, but she needed to be kept an eye on. I needed more information, though. So when Namita went back into her penthouse apartment, and the man was left on the balcony, I slid down. And the man didn't see me. Perfect.

He turned and jumped, downward toward the nearest rooftop. I hit him in midair, and landed on top of him, pinning both his hands, my mask over my face.

I've seen people shake, and scream in fear. They say the ANBU aren't supposed to do that sort of thing; aren't supposed to be human. I don't really know. But I do know what I saw, even with that mask in place. I saw fear.

"Information." I growled, letting my voice slip for just a moment. "Who was he?"

"Chitachi Teisei."

He was her brother… or cousin, or something. Family, that was what mattered. Not just a colleague.

"Why does she hate him?"

"I d-don't know!" He gasped. "I don't know anything!"

"Why you, then?"

"He just needed a… a guide." He panted, and gasped, and stuttered. "L-Look, I d-don't know anything ab-abu-about them. Th-they're assassins. Th-that's it, okay. He… he j-just came up b-behind me and s-said he needed t-to know where h-his sister was. And everyone kn-knows where D-Doctor Chitachi lives. S-so I took him, okay?"

Okay, I thought to myself. Now what? I didn't really want to kill him, but I couldn't leave behind someone like this. Could I?

"Sorry." I told him. And I let him stand up. Let him take a few breaths, get comfortable. "Look over there." I said, and I pointed at the horizon. And while he was looking away, I severed his head. Completely free of pain, by surprise, totally unaware. Zabuza would have been proud - he was our assassin. Of course, there wouldn't be much of his body left for his family, I noted as his head and torso both tore themselves to shreds growing, and then losing, muscle. But at least he was… At least it didn't hurt.

Too bad for him, I guess. Tough break. Sometimes, life isn't about you. It's about someone else. And people who don't know that there's another person in the mix, think it's just themselves - those people call it luck.

I don't believe in luck. I believe in other people.

Other people are Hell.

* * *

It was four on one, and Ryusando had his back to the doors. His mind analyzed the scenario without active work. Too many… he was outnumbered, in a foreign land, with no one to call on. And he could run away easily, but he needed to be here for Namita.

Takatori had produced a shuriken, larger than normal, and clearly far heaver. He spun it on his fingertip, watching.

"What do you want?" Ryusando asked.

Takatori smiled, tossing up his shuriken and catching it in his palm, before slapping it onto the back of his hand like a coin. "Well… let's just say the Raikage is uncomfortable with your presence. You already killed one of his counterparts, and he'd like to avoid the chance of repeating the past. Besides… your head's worth enough for me to retire early."

Ryusando pushed himself slowly to his feet. Casually, he slid his fingers together.

_Tiger, Dragon, Rat, Ox, Ram, Bird_

"Katana Kuchiyose no Jutsu."

He placed both hands on the bar's smooth wooden surface, palms down. The hilts of two katana appeared, although neither had a blade. _Damn it, Ink…_ He thought to himself, throwing away the broken weapons. _Maybe Takatori's right… I am getting old._

Takatori flung the shuriken at Ryusando's throat, and the missing-nin knew better than to block it. He ducked, using his Raiton chakra on his nerves to increase his speed. The weapon passed narrowly over his head, and shredded into the double doors, where it unleashed a flow of electricity.

_So much for the doors_.

Ryusando saw the men coming - all three, in time with each other. They didn't really look much different than they had drinking quietly, except they carried weapons. A kusari-gama, a wakizashi, and half a pool cue. He couldn't help but smile at the last one.

He pulled out a single kunai and deflected the wakizashi as he grabbed onto the chain of the kusari-gama. The chained sickle wrapped around his hand, and he threw its momentum toward the third fighter, the one with the original weapon. He burst in a sudden crack of lightning.

_Raiton Bunshin… my trick_.

Ryusando dove forward, rolling on the ground as the two fighters swung at him again. He looked around for the third even as he flew between their weapons in midair. The man was hiding in the shadows of the platform, near the poles, when Ryusando saw him again.

Then Takatori hit him, square in the chest, with a dropping elbow.

It hurt. Ryusando's side broke open again. Konan's healing couldn't stand up to Takatori's devastating Taijutsu. That wasn't his claim to power, though. His power came from his summons. Hawks, like his name had always suggested. Flesh eaters. Deadly in close quarters.

Ryusando panted on the ground as he was surrounded.

"Want me to tell you a secret before I kill you?"

Ryusando laughed, despite the pain in his ribs. That was a tradition the missing-nin himself had started, long ago, almost by accident. When he had first killed an equal - the Sotaichou of Takigakure. The land of Waterfalls still wasn't happy for the loss of its greatest son. But as he was dying, Ryusando had told him a secret: _why_.

And the man died, and nothing more had come of it. But someone heard. And then someone else. And soon it was a tradition. Only the best did it: Kage, Sotaichou, ANBU Taichou… S-Rank ninja.

So when Takatori asked him, Ryusando laughed. "Sure… wasn't it really you that kidnapped the Hyuuga girl?"

"Of course it was, Ryusando. I wouldn't have wasted my question on that."

But Ryusando smiled, because he hadn't wasted the question. He'd won an ally. An important one.

His hands moved into seals faster than any of the men could stop him, and then they were done.

"Hiton: Bakudan Tenpi!"

Everyone clasped their eyes. Ryusando flipped backwards, and waited. When no one moved, he called out. "Did you hear that, Toi?"

"Toi?" Takatori asked. "You think he's…" And then he gasped. "the Bartender?"

Ryusando nodded, though no one saw it for being blinded. But then Ryusando looked at the bartender, and it was his turn to be surprised. And perhaps, just a bit afraid.

"You think I'm Kumanezumi?" The deep, powerful voice asked. "You should be disappointed, Ryusando."

"Who is he?" One of the ANBU asked.

"I don't know…" Takatori answered, pulling out his own Hawkmask and placing it over his face. And clearly he could see, because he dove at Ryusando, not even bothering to check on the man. So Ryusando moved. Takatori threw a wide kick, which Ryusando blocked with a forearm as he slammed a palm into the Sotaichou's ribcage.

The man who was once the bartender clearly wanted in on the action. "Jiraiya, the Toad Sage, of the Legendary Sannin! In the flesh!" He screamed all-too enthusiastically, ramming his hands together again.

Ryusando watched in amazement as the Konohagakure shinobi's hands blurred together with inhuman speed. Ryusando was _known_ for the speed of his seals, but it was hard for the missing-nin to keep match of all the motions the Sannin's hands took on.

"Ninpou: Hari Jizou!" The elder shinobi_'_s hair exploded into a massive wall of needles, killing two of the lesser ANBU outright.

Takatori had turned, in awe, when he heard the name. It was the natural response. The man was a living legend. But the natural response was rule number three, and the Kumogakure Sotaichou had broken it, leaving Ryusando with a clean shot at his back.

Ryusando didn't hesitate - he hadn't hesitated before a kill in nearly twenty years. But he didn't kill Takatori. He owed that much as thanks to Jiraiya, as much as he hated the Sannin. So instead, he rammed both kunai into the man's shoulders, cleanly severing the nerves that he knew to be present. No more chakra. No more control. No more seals. Total paralysis of the arms, in the most painful and blunt way possible. It wasn't pretty, and it wasn't subtle, and it wasn't diplomatic. Ryusando wasn't known for any of those three things. He was known being effective, and he was.

"Right… Start talking, Takatori. Why did you want the Byakugan?" Jiraiya shouted, picking up the man by his throat before Ryusando had even realized that he had come from behind the bar.

The man was taken aback. "How dare you… an emissary of Konoha…"

"We killed Hyuuga Hizashi for your sake. Answer me!" Jiraiya shouted. And, just from those words, Ryusando knew exactly why Konoha had sent not only Kumanezumi Toi, but also one of the Sannin, to the village of clouds. It was the biggest political incident that had occurred since the end of the last war, and Konoha was afraid it would start another.

Ryusando found himself wondering. _When did Konoha become afraid of war? What happened to the mercenaries, and the assassins, and the way things used to be?_

Another voice in the back of his head answered. _You killed them._

"Drop him." Ryusando muttered.

"You still think of me as a friend?" Takatori asked as Jiraiya released his throat. "Thank you!"

Jiraiya glared at Ryusando for a moment - an imposing sight from man over two meters in height, glaring at Ryusando's short and skinny form. But the missing-nin wasn't intimidated. That part of him had died long ago.

"Takatori, I'll give you one chance to explain. Why do you want the Byakugan?"

Takatori smiled, and shook his head. "Because I didn't do it for Kumogakure." He glanced down at his arm, and Jiraiya pulled up the sleeve. Tattooed onto his wrist was a single, tiny, stylized red cloud.

"Explain!" Jiraiya shouted, but Ryusando already knew. He knew the red clouds. They came from a black robe, in a rainy, muddy, polluted city of towering steel and lifeless streets. Pain.

"I lied, Ryusando. Can you blame me?"

"You can no longer be a shinobi." Ryusando muttered, gesturing to his hands. No one heard the door open.

"I…" The man looked down as his hands hung limp. Hopefully, Namita could heal them. "What do you mean? They'll heal with time. I just…" Ryusando rammed a kunai into the man's throat. He held his enemy up by the kunai for a moment, until blood began to drip down his arm.

Two figures in the door stood, watching. One didn't care. The other was too furious to scream. She simply spoke. "Ryusando.

Instantly, a fear found Ryusando's heart. He was intimidated, in the part of his heart that he thought was dead. Not because his life was threatened, but because the life of the one person he still cared about was in danger.

"Namita…"

Only then did he let the corpse drop to the ground. "I would have died without you." Ryusando muttered as his form of thanks to Jiraiya. Pushing open the door and walking away, Jiraiya was left silently wondering what had happened between the pair.

"You killed him."

All Ryusando could say back was "Yes."

"I'll help you." She told him after a moment's hesitation, and he looked up. He frowned, but not because he was angry. She had surprised him. He had heard a genuine tone in her voice when she talked in the hospital; how she had assumed he wanted her to kill someone, instead of saving them. He thought she would have refused him.

Somewhere inside, Namita wanted to cry. She saw herself holding the kunai, and Ryusando as the one on the ground. That wasn't what made her want to cry. It was the realization that the thought had made her happy.


	9. Shirotenpi

Namita stared at Ryusando's bloody weapon. The missing-nin dropped the kunai and looked up at her. "You came."

"Only as a doctor." The disgust behind her tone was neither subtle, nor quiet. "Then we're done."

"That was the idea." Ryusando lied. He needed her. For more than just her medical skills, she was necessary. But his first priority was his last student. Satetso Kensei.

"How much money?"

Namita seemed surprised by the question for the tiniest sliver of a moment. Then her eyes looked down, she shook her head, and sighed. "None. But I will need a… favor."

That was a troublesome request for Ryusando to cope with, but he had found himself between a need and a want.

"Fine." He offered his hand, even as a drop of Takatori's blood slid across his palm.

Chitachi Namita stared at the gesture for a moment, and then reached out. They shook hands, watching each other's eyes, each unable to see the other's thoughts. To each, that was the first sign of danger.

Ryusando broke the lock of their deal, signed in blood, before the doctor. He looked up at the third of the companions, and - temporary - allies. "Ink, did you get the supplies we needed?"

"No, I…" She had expected Ryusando to be mad, but the elder ninja seemed completely unfazed.

"It doesn't matter. Just a short detour." Before there was even the time to ask for an explanation, he began to walk toward the doors. "Though we need to go. Now."

* * *

Ryusando knew that his small group was being followed, even from the moment that they left Kumogakure and entered the barren mountains and canyons of lightning country. He would hear the occasional footstep, or the whistling of air passing a body jumping between rocks high above. He put them away in his mind as Kumo's ANBU. Having dispatched their leader, the missing-nin knew that the lesser ninja weren't a match for his team of three, and that they knew it as well.

There was indeed a team of five Kumo ANBU - Hunter-Nin assigned by the Kazekage to eliminate Namita if she became a threat. And just as Ryusando had decided, they posed virtually no threat to the team of three far more trained and skilled ninja. What Ryusando didn't know was that the group was followed by another, single ninja.

Kumanezumi Toi ran with bare feet against the rocky cliffs. His calloused soles felt not a single prick as he followed the three before him.

It wasn't strictly his assignment, but it would take an incredible ninja indeed to steal the young Hyuuga girl from one of the Legendary Sannin. When Jiraiya had arrived at the hospital, Toi's sharp and calculating mind set itself on a new target. He had been surprised that Namita chose to travel with Ryusando. That surprise worried the 'rat ninja'. He was ambivalent to his 'S-rank' nickname; a tradition that he likewise chose to ignore. Ryusando's strange actions since his banishment, however, were something that neither the rat ninja, nor the village he represented, could afford to ignore.

So even though Sarutobi Hiruzen, the Sandaime Hokage, had not assigned his task, nor was he being paid for his actions, Toi considered himself to be on a mission for Konohagakure. Ryusando's hatred of the leaf ninja was well known amongst anyone powerful enough to care, and if his ultimate goals threatened the village, Toi felt that he needed to be there to find out.

Neither Ryusando, nor Namita noticed their last stalker. Their deliberate ignorance of the Kumogakure ANBU gave Toi more of an advantage than he needed, though he knew better than to waste such a gift. He tracked them for three days, until they reached the edge of Lightning Country, and entered the 'chaos states'.

Somewhere between eight and fourteen tiny nations dotted the landscape separating the peninsula of Lightning Country from the mainland. They were known for their warlords, and their samurai. Unlike the greater shinobi nations, which lived long and prosperous lives separated by massive and devastating wars, the 'chaos states' were known for their constant infighting over decades of debated territory. Fathers inherited old hatreds from grandfathers, and passed those hatreds on to their children. Countries rose and fell like blades of grass, without care or even notice by the greater shinobi nations.

Somewhere amongst the small villages, Ryusando lost his more obvious trackers. He led his team into a rather sleazy hotel one morning, and the ANBU followed him in. They didn't find him.

Toi wasn't fooled by the mere look of his quarry's gesture. The team entering the hotel had been a trick of the light - Ryusando's less-than-secret _Hiton Bunshin_ technique. But they had no smell, giving them away to the rat ninja's keen nose. He followed the real three ninja, disguised as peasants, as they crossed the rice fields that formed the border of two of the small countries.

Then they came to a river, where the sky was gray overhead, and the ground wet beneath Toi's shoeless feet. The border with Rain Country, and Amegakure. Entering that village would raise the stakes considerably. They stopped, however, before the crossing. Toi saw Ryusando talking to the Swordsman. The two seemed to be at odds, although Ryusando retained his nearly-smug, constant calm expression. All he could tell of their animosity came from the way the woman's stance shifted when she spoke. To the rat ninja's surprise, the doctor abstained from the conversation altogether. Drawn by curiosity like a moth to a flame, Toi performed a few quick seals and slipped into a mud puddle, where he slowly oozed forward into eardrop of the conversation.

"Are you insane, Ryusando?" The Swordsman shouted, as water poured off the wide conical rice-hat she had donned for a disguise. Her massive sword was nowhere to be seen, but Toi did recognize the distinct shape of a katana on her back in its place. "Back there, Pain will _kill _us."

Toi wondered to himself about the statement. She had to have meant a person - some arbitrarily lethal pain wasn't likely to strike the three dead as they crossed the country, no matter how valuable the bounty on Ryusando's head turned out to be.

Ryusando's blank eyes shifted to Namita, and then back to the much larger Swordsman. Toi could recognize secrets all over his face, though he doubted that the Swordsman saw them so plainly. For Kirigakure ninja, it had long been a tradition to abstain from political studies in favor of brute force, and the Swordsmen of the bloody village were famous for holding to that philosophy. Ryusando glanced at Namita again, and he seemed to be wondering if she were going to speak. Whether he was disappointed or pleased, Toi couldn't tell, but Namita's lips remained sealed. Ryusando again faced his detractor and his eyes narrowed.

"No, Ink, I am not. Where we are headed, Pain wouldn't dare follow." Then, bluntly, he turned toward the river. Namita followed without hesitation, but the Swordsman - Ink, he had called her - stood firmly where she had been before.

"He beat you, Ryusando. I don't know what makes you feel so smug, but I'm not comfortable going against someone like him."

Those words shocked Toi. Not that Ryusando had been beaten - plenty of people were _capable_ of that achievement, although Toi doubted that most of them would be willing to pay the necessary prices for victory. Instead, Toi was surprised that this individual had beaten Ryusando, and that both had lived through the battle.

Ryusando stopped mid-stride. "We won't be seeing him at all, Ink. Stop asking questions and come." A tone of annoyance, or perhaps impatience, had wriggled its way into Ryusando's usual monotonous declarations. The white-haired ninja pulled the tattered brown cloak of his own disguise tighter around his shoulders, and began to walk again.

"No, Ryusando. I've had enough of your secrets. I'm helping you, out of my own generosity, so give me a straight answer _now_. Where are we going?"

Ryusando sighed, and then turned around to face her. He had no hat, and his white hair that normally hung gracefully and evenly around his face was sticking to his cheeks, highlight the unusually gaunt structures there. That too was valuable information to their silent and observant stalker. Ryusando hadn't been eating well - whether through too much training, or fighting, or a simple lack of resources, the S-Rank missing-nin was obviously weakened, though the force of his will hid such disadvantages from becoming apparent in his stride, or his speech.

"Amegakure is in the midst of a civil war."

The words were impossible - a lie. Toi knew that to be a fact, yet Ryusando didn't seem to be lying. Thus, the rat ninja was left wondering how his quarry had come across such information. Konoha's ANBU had no idea, and even if Ryusando's hand-picked and trained Sunagakure ANBU were known to be the superior force, it shouldn't have mattered. It was one of the basic rules of a ninja.

_You can hide a weapon. You can hide a body. You can even hide an idea, But you cannot hide a war._

Toi would have laughed at himself in any other situation as he thought of the rule. It actually said that a ninja can't hide _from_ war. Nevertheless, a civil war should have been nearly impossible to carry out in secret; especially considering that Konoha's intelligence reports recognized Amegakure as _doubling_ their rate of successfully completed contracts. Even one of the greater villages wouldn't have had the manpower to pull off such a trick.

Then Toi realized that Ryusando was still talking. "…so we will head to the fortress of Hanzou of the Salamanders. There, we can gather supplies and head for Suna." Without waiting for reply, Ryusando started walking again. This time, Ink immediately began to walk. Namita, though, gave pause. Toi could see her eyes from his hiding place, and he knew she didn't trust her new leader. Something else behind her eyes troubled Toi as well, though the hidden ninja couldn't put his finger on it. The thought was banished from his mind when Namita stared down at the puddle he was hiding in and glared coldly. Without a word, she suddenly flickered off, catching up with her companions.

Toi wondered if she had really seen him, or if her anger had been merely directed at the ground. Regardless, he would have to advance with greater caution, as he entered a land of far too many mysteries for his liking.

* * *

Hanzou, known as the Lord of the Salamanders to the people of Amegakure, was a traditionalist. He was powerful, as any ninja who manages to reach the age of fifty must be. He was smart. He was strong. But with his age and his power had come his own folly: paranoia.

Pain's revolution was beginning to grate on the warlord's mind. Hanzou's once great mansion, before known for its hospitality and luxuries in times of peace, had become a barren fortress, manned by more guards than the structure was meant to hold. The public had not seen the man in months, and rumors were beginning to arise that he had already been killed and replaced.

Ryusando didn't bother listening to the rumors. He knew the truth: Hanzou, the man who had bested the Legendary Sannin by himself, could not be killed so easily. He wasted no time approaching the massive fortress. Rough cobblestones rose up into sheer whitewashed walls. A dozen or more terraced eaves divided floors. Between each terrace, Ryusando could see faces looking out between gathered bars.

"He'll help us, right?" Ink asked. Though she had tried to put on a calm voice, her apprehension was plain to the white-eyed missing-nin.

"I can't promise anything." Ryusando slowly approached the gates, guarded by a pair of massive armored figures.

"Who are you?" One asked.

"Tohiryuu Ryusando. I will speak to Hanzou."

"Hanzou speaks to no one." The other figure answered, in an identical voice.

Ryusando stepped forward, producing what Namita and Ink thought of as a comical sight. He stood directly against the chest of one of the figures, and looked up a good half-meter to match the far taller ninja's gaze. And Ryusando's eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed in a way Ink had never seen before. The tattoo on his forehead wrinkled, and Ryusando's hands curled into fists.

"I did not ask." Ryusando told the man in simple, short words. "Open the door, or die."

A spear was brought toward the white haired ninja, and Ryusando shattered its handle with his forearm. His hand then shot to the man's throat, picking him up.

"Now, now. There's no need for this, Ryusando. You're making me look bad in front of my new employer."

Ryusando turned, eyes widening ever-so slightly. "Obindo Redai?"

"In the flesh." Redai's eyes were covered by a new, clean, gold-lined black satin bandage. He wore a similarly colored kimono, tied tightly around his waist with a thick red sash. Smooth black slippers covered his feet on the paved, wet ground. "Come inside. Hanzou is waiting."

"Who is he?" Ryusando heard Namita ask.

As Ryusando moved toward his old acquaintance, Ink explained to the doctor. "A mercenary. He'd been playing both sides of the civil war, though I guess he finally sat down and chose a favorite."

The doors behind Redai opened into a long room, where torches led down a hall carpeted in thick red plush and decorated with golden busts of Amegakure Ninja of the past. Ryusando walked side by side with Redai, and the two whispered, far enough ahead to avoid Ink and Namita's curious ears. "Why, Redai?" He whispered.

"Choose Hanzou? I was… running out of options."

"Pain will win. The Rin'negan are too powerful, and Hanzou is too old."

"You're getting old yourself, Ryusando." The white-haired ninja broke his usual blank face for a momentary glare. Redai didn't seem to have noticed as he continued. "But I don't care who wins, really. I don't know why, but Pain really wants you dead. And now that I've worked with you, he isn't too keen on accepting my help. I couldn't play both sides anymore, so I pledged my support here. It has come with some… benefits."

Ryusando looked around, and his eyes caught the subtle signs of peepholes in the walls and hidden doors in the ceilings. "Is this the only way in to see Hanzou?" He continued to scan while waiting for Redai's response, and suddenly realized that Ink and Namita were sharing a similarly whispered conversation behind his back. "Redai?"

"Huh?" The blind ninja had been distracted for a moment, staring off into the corner. He shook his head, and then turned back to Ryusando. "Yeah, why?"

"The hall is a deathtrap." Ryusando muttered. "I might need to leave some other route."

"Well, all the windows open from the inside out, but you can't get in that way. The heat's a killer in the summer." Redai began to drivel on about the comforts and discomforts of Hanzou's fortress, but Ryusando tuned him out. The missing-nin had more important things on his mind.

Those thoughts were washed away instantly when Redai gestured to a pair of guards standing on either side of two more massive doors. With a bow, the pair pulled the portal open, revealing an opulent throne room. Massive scrolls and tapestries hung from the tiered ceiling. Hundreds of tiny windows focused light on a thin line of carpet leading from the entrance to the foot of a massive marble chair. Like the throne, the floor was swirling black and white marble, seemingly comprised of only a single piece. In the corners and along the walls were figures dressed as servants, aides, and other civilians. Each and every one failed utterly at trying to look like their roles. They were all ninja, and they were all armed.

In the throne itself sat Hanzou. He was a large man, though his muscles had begun to fade with age. That body wore a full, armored tactical vest with shining silver plates. Over his shoulders he had draped a blue-gray cloak, tattered at the edges but cleverly concealing his hands.

He had sharp eyes, surrounded by wrinkled tan skin. His head was adorned with a helmet that concealed his cheeks and jaw, rising to almost a crown atop his head, decorated with the insignia of the Amegakure ninjas. Behind the headdress, a mane of silver-gray hair hung down his back.

"Tohiryuu Ryusando."

"Hanzou-sama." Ryusando took a knee upon entering, followed closely by Namita and Ink.

"Are you here to kill me?" Hanzou asked. A few of the poorly disguised ninja throughout the room let out forced laughs, but the warlords comment had been deadly serious.

"Would he have come through the front door if he intended that?" Redai asked, trying to lighten the mood. That earned a few more chuckles, though they still sounded forced in the somber room.

"He is more clever than you give him credit for, Redai. Or do you forget that the entire team who murdered the Sandaime Mizukage is now present in my fortress." Hanzou's finger rose into the air, and snapped.

Hanzou, Lord of the Salamanders, was known for many things. He had survived all three Great Ninja Wars. He had bested the Legendary Sannin in battle. He was a warlord, and a politician of no small skill. It was his influence alone that had founded Amegakure, even against the will of his own Daimyo. In his old age, Hanzou became known for one other thing: the _Ronin Yofun_; the Raging Outcasts. Exactly eighty men and women; all insane, by Hanzou's deliberate choosing. None were ninja, nor had they even been soldiers before Hanzou freed them from the 'asylum' of Rain Country. Now they served him mindlessly. Each and every one, a brutal warrior, carrying chains and balls and chairs legs, and swords. Hundreds of swords.

They moved from the walls, all eighty at once, with only one target to choose.

Tohiryuu Ryusando moved with a slow, deliberate motion, leaning backwards from his place kneeling on the blood red carpet. His left hand wrapped itself around a sword that was it did not own. An obsidian katana; a strange weapon, yet deadly with even the smallest strike.

When Ryusando finally rose from his knee, the _Ronin Yufun _were upon him. He began with a spin that seemed to barely contain motion at all, until six attackers suddenly found themselves waist deep in the muscles of their own legs.

The Missing-nin spun Ink's sword in his palm, and tightened his grip when the blade was below his fist. It took only a casual back flip to avoid more attacks, and the white-haired ninja found himself gracefully poised on the wall above the entry doors, staring down at his foes.

Their gazes rose slowly to meet his, unified as one, even as the six fallen screamed in agony.

"Listen to me, Hanzou." Ryusando told him, wrapping both hands around the hilt of the stone sword. "Please."

"I am." The warlord answered. The weapons came flying then.

Tohiryuu Ryusando, once called the Desert Sun, was known for many things. In that moment, only one mattered. He was the greatest swordfighter to have ever come out of Sunagakure. It was said that the desert was not kind to those who wielded the sword; that even the slightest over exertion would cost a ninja his life; that no one could survive long enough to master the art.

Ryusando watched ninety-seven weapons flying his way. His right hand, highest on the hilt of the stone katana, tightened. The fingers of his left hand opened, but his thumb pinched the careful cloth wrappings of the handle. Then he moved. Wood, and steel, and stone, all fell from the open air above the doorway. The motion was perfect.

Barely half the weapons had been stopped. In that fraction of a second, that Hanzou thought the fight was over, the warlord smiled. Time seemed to stop.

Ryusando's left hand, though, had fallen away from Ink's sword mid slash. It wrapped around another incoming weapon - a wakizashi - in the frozen moment.

Then the rest of the weapons fell away, and Ryusando stood once again amidst the madmen, faster than a flash of lightning.

"My words aren't for these ears." Ryusando told the Warlord on his throne, as the seventy-four remaining soldiers raised their weapons and fists. The Missing-Nin readied himself as well. His blank eyes scanned as he turned, watching every face. A few stepped away. Only five remained.

The wicked scare of a young girl.

A one eyed scowl from a man older than Hanzou.

Two twins, taunting with their tongues showing.

A disapproving doctor, looking away.

A large man holding a massive sword to rival what Ink had used the day she met Ryusando.

There was no noise for what happened next. The thick carpet, now wet with blood, didn't let out a crack, or a ring. It caught metal and stone in silence. Ryusando's open hands faced the floor.

"Jutsu?" Hanzou taunted. "They aren't even ninja."

"No." Ryusando answered. "Just a chance not to die."

The warlord was silent for a moment. Then came his judgment. "Kill him."

Ryusando's feet threw his weapons back into his hands faster than they had fallen. He thrust with the katana, and the heart of the old man with one eye simply was no longer there. His left elbow caught the arm of one of the twins. It took only a lean backwards to produce an awful, sickening crack. White bone rose through tan flesh. Ryusando's feet met the face of the young girl as his stolen wakizashi severed the stolen member. It flew into the face of the large man, stopping a swing of his larger sword. Then came a slash from the stone katana. The man's intestines would have been on the floor from any other sword. Instead, his chest grew and shredded away into a grotesque mockery. Growing muscle snapped the man's spine. He crumpled to the floor, unconscious from shock. It took only six seconds for his blood to drain away. He never awoke.

Only the three arms of the twins, and the stunned younger girl remained.

* * *

**_Chitachi Namita_**

* * *

At first I wondered what if felt like. I knew what it felt like to kill, and then to sit there with the corpse and wonder what part of you went away with the fading soul. But I had always wondered what it felt like for Ryusando, or Grandfather, or any of the others in my life who have killed so much that they have nothing left to lose.

To kill, and not have the time to think and to feel loss because death still stares you in the face, and you must choose to kill again, or to die and lose everything.

Massacre.

The word is too simple to describe what it means.

My new… employer… swung the Swordsman's sword, and the twin with his arm gone suddenly found himself free of pain. It came for his neck. Only a moment later, a shredded, severed head hit the carpet. I could see that it was wet, but the color hadn't changed.

How odd.

I felt like I had seen the little girl before. And then I wondered why I thought she was little; she must have been sixteen. Much older than the young ninja dying across the world for a cause they aren't old enough to understand. But where?

Ryusando's wakizashi slid through the surviving twin's throat even as that boy's own sword cut Ryusando's shoulder. A flesh wound, nothing more, but painful. I told myself I wouldn't heal it.

Ryusando then turned on the little girl, and I _knew _that I knew her, even if I didn't know where.

"Stop." Someone yelled, and I rushed forward toward her. I didn't even realize that I had spoken until the battle was over. Ryusando's weapons paused for me, but the girl still thrust at him, holding only a tiny knife. I ripped it from her hands, and struck her.

_One._

_Two._

_Three._

_Four._

_Five._

_Six._

_Seven._

"Goodnight." I whispered, laying her form down slowly. Ryusando had seen. Hanzou had seen. Perhaps the blind man knew as well. The Swordsman had never heard of me. The _Ronin_ couldn't possibly understand what I had done.

"You spared her?" Hanzou asked, rising to his feet.

I glared at him. If she had died, her blood would have been on the Warlord's hands just as much as Ryusando's. As it was, the bloody carpet was theirs to share. I wanted no part of it. I glared at him, but I didn't have any words for Hanzou of the Salamanders. He didn't deserve them.

Neither did Ryusando, but he would have his words. He and I both know what will happen when my fingers count to _eight_.

Before anyone else could move, the blind man ripped off the bandage over his eyes. I didn't know what caused it, but suddenly weapons were put away, and Hanzou sat down. The battle was over.

Ryusando returned the black katana to the Swordsman… to Ink. She has a name, I reminded myself. Even if it isn't a real name. Respect her. At least she deserves that respect.

"Fine, Ryusando." The Warlord uttered, with a tone that told me all I needed to know about him. Even after we had easily bested his elite troops, the old man still spoke as if he had absolute power. "We will talk. What do you want?"

"Rooms, for the night. Supplies to cross the desert. Two katanas. And then, you and I will speak in private." Ryusando didn't change his tone. Each and every thing he said was not a request, nor a demand. They were facts; things he would get, and he would have, and muttering 'or else' would be beneath him. I felt my fingernails biting into my palms, and forced myself to unclench my fists.

Hanzou's gaze shifted ever so slightly, to one of the figures standing around the room. "Do it."

We stood, awkwardly for a moment, until a servant in the massive fortress took us down the hall. Ink and I. I confess I was glad to leave Ryusando and Hanzou behind me. The room had only a single massive bed. I had barely entered when Ink said something behind her mask.

"What?" I asked.

"You take it."

Again, I found myself wishing I could see through the white porcelain. "You don't want-"

"I don't sleep much." Ink answered, before I could finish. She took her katana off her back and pulled a small whetstone from a pouch on her waist. "See you in the morning."

I looked outside, through the tiny, grated window. The moon was up. It had been a long day of travel. I wasn't about to turn down Ink's generosity. My white coat looked odd against the dark wooden décor when I threw it on a coat hook near the door. I slipped off my shoes, and checked my feet. Despite six years without a trip out of Kumogakure, my feet hadn't lost their hardness. No blisters or pains. That was the end of it. I laid down, and willed myself to sleep. It was all too easy that night.

My dreams were haunted, as they always were, and I'm not sure how long I slept, but it was still dark when I awoke to the opening of my door. No one should have been there. My eyes opened with tiny slits, just enough to take in the room around me, but not enough to tell I was awake. Ink stood, with a much larger sword than the katana she had kept earlier in the night, pressed against the throat of a servant who was desperately protesting his position.

"Sir… or rather mam, please… I didn't mean anything by it, I-"

"Quiet." Ink ordered, in a more gruff and commanding voice than she had ever used in my presence. The man's desperate panting settled to a calm. "Now, why?"

"Hanzou-sama wanted everyone out of their rooms. Something happened - I don't know what - but it seems important."

We were rushed out of the room, where Hanzou was standing on a rather unnaturally large salamander in the center of his 'throne room', surrounded by the survivors of the earlier battle.

"What is it?" The blind mercenary complained from the ground beside his employer, dressed in a black, shiny silk robe and looking in every regard like he had just woken up.

"The night guards are dead."

"What, all of them?" If the blind ninja was surprised, that meant something. I had yet to see him fight, yet simply the ease with which he had ended the earlier battle told me had power.

"Is everyone accounted for?" Hanzou asked.

"Almost, sir… Ryusando isn't here." Someone pointed out. I first wondered why the speaker used his first name; even I didn't really know Ryusando, and I was working for him. That thought faded quickly as my tired consciousness caught up to the wild fantasies of the subconscious. I knew, almost instinctively, that he had done it, and I didn't know why. Instincts, though, are rarely wrong. I looked around, and sure enough, he was absent. No white hair. No blank white eyes. No cold demeanor. No hollow words.

"Are you prepared to reconsider?"

Literally every head turned at the heralding of Ryusando's voice. Hanzou's narrow eyes stared for a moment, and then the Warlord nodded grimly. "So you are here. Pain did it. Him, and his woman. They're taunting me." He held, in his fingers, a carefully folded origami shuriken. One of the points of the star was tipped in blood. Warm, wet, red… fresh. "Yes, Ryusando. We will talk."

Then, without further mention or thought, the group simply faded away into nothingness. Were they really all so stupid? Did they really believe Ryusando hadn't done it?

I didn't press the issue - I had no reason to help Hanzou, or to attack Ryusando. If I did decide to end his life, it would be better than he thought me loyal. Then all that would be necessary would be eight quick taps, and a whispered farewell.

* * *

**_Tohiryuu Ryusando_**

* * *

I stood on the roof of Hanzou's fortress, and forced myself to recall what I was doing there. A dead ninja lay on my left, and a another hung from the edge of the roof to my right. Why had I done it? Why had I killed his soldiers in the night, after earning his trust?

_When Namita used the forbidden art of Dim-Mak in plain and bold-faced public, I found myself applauding her gall. She was confident in her skill, and so fast that I suspect only Hanzou, Redai, and I even recognized it. Yet she only gave seven strikes - a heart attack, but not fatal in the Doctor's capable hands. _

_Almost as soon as she stepped forward, Hanzou knew he was outmatched; or rather, he suspected the worst. He assumed Redai would side with me, but I wasn't so sure. Our last parting had been under strained circumstances, and now he was being paid by Hanzou, who had far more resources than my finite funds. Regardless, neither of us were willing to gamble. _

_Ink and Namita - Dr. Chitachi - let themselves be led to their rooms, and I went to speak with Hanzou, in a small private dining room._

I held in my hands two awkward, misshapen kunai. They were, perhaps, the most deadly weapons in the ninja world. My name was carved, in the characters of the old tongue, into their handles. I felt the marks, identifying me beneath my fingertips.

I saw the next target, and flung one of the weapons toward him. He had just enough time to hear the whistle of a blade through the air, and turn, before I felt the unnatural tug of my title, and the blade still in my hands met flesh.

He was dead before he hit the roof. I caught him by his shirt, and then slowly and silently lowered the body. It was something Hanzou would have understood, in my position. If he knew what I knew.

_I wasn't surprised when I saw the low table and the mats for kneeling. Hanzou was old, and a traditionalist. He was one of the few ninja who still spoke the old tongue outside the naming of his techniques._

_He knelt on one side, and I the other. I heard his knees creak as he took his place._

_"Age is catching up to me." He began. I didn't know what to say, so I simply nodded._

_He seemed displeased by my motion. "Do you remember who I am?"_

_"Hanzou, Lord of the Salamanders."_

_"Don't patronize me, Ryusando." I hadn't been. "I don't need your petty titles."_

_"Fine. You are Hattori Hanzou, a Legend amongst warriors and the last Mercenary Warlord of the Age of Blood."_

_Perhaps that statement deserves a story. We live in the Age of Shadows, named for the five Kage, the shadows who rule the world. This age began precisely seventy-seven years ago, at the place now called the Valley of Endings, where Senju Hashirama killed Uchiha Madara and became the first Kage, the Shodai Hokage of Konoha. Before that day, the world was ruled by Daimyo who could fund powerful mercenary armies. The greatest of these armies were the Ninja clans, tied by the powers of their blood that gave the age its name. Hanzou had no clan, but he had an army. He survived when thousands of clans died. He was unstoppable. Many believe he still is. Yet, even the greatest ninja cannot truly escape the ravages of age. Even the Sage of the Six Paths couldn't fight time._

_Hanzou nodded, and pulled off the helmet from his head. Great wrinkles covered his face, and his eyes were sunken deep into his skull. Nevertheless, his gaze was powerful in a way I could never be. He was a leader, and a powerful one at that. I am a warrior. I can lead by example, but not word._

_Hanzou's gaze pierced the bleached and blinded stare of my eyes and saw into me. And he sighed before he spoke. "Ryusando, I am old. I am a warrior. You and I are alike." And then he shook his head. "Our kind is dying, Ryusando. The old ways. The mercenaries. The warlords. The assassins. Dying for honor is not something the new, young people understand. Only madmen do now. That is why I chose my bodyguards. I understand them."_

I killed another of the rare people that Hanzou understood, and then another. It was dark. Their perches were well hidden. They were good. It didn't mean much. Hanzou and I both knew that. It was a simple matter for a ninja. A single, simple rule.

Good is never good enough.

_"Are we mad, Hanzou?" It was what he wanted me to ask._

_The old man smiled, not as a warlord or a ninja, but almost as a father to a son. "Perhaps, Ryusando. But it isn't our time just yet. You wanted to talk about Pain, didn't you?"_

_Of course he knew. He could read me like a scroll. "Yes."_

_"I tell you these things for two reasons. One, is because I know now that I can trust you. You had no hesitation to kill my soldiers, but you offered them the chance at life. I can trust you, and it the nature of old men to get lonely. Before I die, I would like you to know my mind; to understand me and to carry on some part of me that my family cannot. The proud warlord of nearly a century ago. Hattori Hanzou, who built Amegakure with his own hands."_

_I understood him. Two other men had entrusted me with carrying on their legacies. One was the last of the Tohiryuu, my father. Now I am the last. The other I cannot carry forever. In Sunagakure, I will lose my burden. I can afford to take on another._

_"I will remember you, Hanzou. But you aren't so old yet."_

_"None of us have the luxury of dying of age, Ryusando. Someday; someday soon, Pain will breach my defenses. I am old and he is new. It is the nature of the world. But I don't want to lose my cause to Pain, even if I lose my life. And I intend to survive with my cause as long as possible. He fights to change the old ways, because he, like so many others, is afraid of war, and death and famine. And they would pay the price of their honor to achieve it. I won't let honor die, Ryusando. Carry on my honor when I am gone."_

_"I will carry your honor, Hattori Hanzou."_

_"Good. That is the second reason I tell you these things - so that you can understand what I fight here, in the village I built. Why I cannot allow you to take away my armies and my men. Anything else, I can give you, but that is beyond my power."_

_And I knew I had won. He had played into my hand._

_"Hanzou-sama, I have no interest in taking away your men… save one."_

_"No."_

That was why. He had told me no, even before I had asked. So now they died, in a dark and silent bloodbath beneath a moon none too bright and far too red for such a night. I kept my mind occupied with the story I told myself, as a darker and colder part of me analyzed and killed as no human mind ever should.

Kidneys. Throats. Calm, smooth motions. Footing. Shadows. Dangerous positions. Timings. The rushing thrill the hunt. It was a deadly game for that part of me; a part that laughed when I tried to tell myself that what I was doing wasn't something to enjoy.

And I knew it was right. None of these ninja had anyone to go back to. No family to return to, or to miss them when they were gone.

Was that how it would be when someone finally killed me?

_"You can't have Redai." He told me._

_"Why not?" I asked. "If you concede defeat to Pain so easily?"_

_"I can kill him, with Redai." Hanzou told me. "So he won't attack me here. And because of this, he can't control Amegakure. And because every Kage and Village Elder in the world recognizes me as Amegakure's rightful ruler, he can never become a legitimate power."_

_I understood his point; as long as he had Redai, in his fortress, Pain could never become the ruler of Amegakure. He could never be recognized as a Kage. And, without that recognition, he could never gain the allies he would need to make whatever goals he had into reality. It was a powerful defense. It appeared to me that Hanzou had forgotten a rule._

_Never be on the defensive._

I wasn't on the defensive as I crouched atop the fortress' gatehouse, kunai in my grip. They were the last two. The patronizing guards whom I had threatened to kill mere hours before. And their stances, their motions, their gazes, were all so amateur. It would be easy.

I moved, faster than either could react. Two dead bodies fell, throats slit. I had only mere moments to complete my plan.

I pulled out a note a had hastily scrawled minutes before, and tossed it atop one of the bodies.

Then came the creaking of a door, and I had to move.

Only once I was on the roof, in the shadows, did I see my fatal mistake. One of the kunai rose up from the flesh of the throat I had grabbed earlier in the day. Just below it was the note.

There was no chance to fix my mistake. I had to reach my room before the alarm went off.

I barely made it. Just as I had replaced the bars in the window of the large and luxurious suite, a servant walked in.

"Oh, Ryusando-sama. Come, quickly."

I went, down winding halls and past countless traps in the Warlord's fortress, until I finally reached the throne room. There was Hanzou, atop a salamander, and Redai beside him. Both were battle-ready, though one might not have been able to tell without knowing either. They looked casual. They were relaxed, ready for a fatal battle.

"Are you prepared to reconsider?" I asked, as Hanzou's diplomatic guard was lowered in focus for a true, violent battle.

His eyes jumped to me. He said something about Pain, and a woman, as his hands fingered a tightly folded origami shuriken dripping blood.

Konan? I wondered just who she was, with refreshed doubts, yet I still saw my misshapen kunai, tucked into a sash around the warlord's belt.

As the rest of the room flooded away, I looked Hanzou in the eye. His lizard towered over me, and I wondered if he knew. If he had actually guessed, all along. If not, he would yield Redai to me, believing that Pain could kill him with our without the aid of the blind Shinobi. If so, I would die. Aged or not, Hanzou was more than my match in battle.

"I need him." I nodded toward Redai.

"Why?"

I took a slow breath. This moment would earn me my justice, or end my life. "I intend to create a team of Missing-nin , as Pain has, in order to fight his Akatsuki."

Hanzou's sunken eyes smiled, and then a smile spread across his face. "This is why you have the Swordsman, and the Chitachi…"

"She is a doctor." I told him, maintaining the lie I had told myself. "I cannot recruit her. I need her to heal my last student."

"The Satetso boy? The grandson of the Kazekage?"

I nodded. "Satetso Kensei. He, Ink - the Swordsman, and I will be the team."

"You will need more." Hanzou noted. "There are many of them."

"I have plans." I told him. "Loto the Destroyer. Zantatsu Haji. Reimeiki. The Black Fang."

Hanzou's smile grew wider.

"And Obindo Redai."

The smile disappeared. "No."

"Hanzou-sama, I can defeat Pain. I can defeat Akatsuki." I heard desperation in my own voice, and I knew he heard it as well.

"If you take him from me, Ryusando, you will disrupt the balance. Pain knows he cannot defeat me here, in my fortress, with Redai by my side. He wouldn't dare."

"Hanzou-sama." Redai spoke, from somewhere in the shadows. "Let me go."

The ninja elder was shocked. I could see it in the subtle movement of the wrinkles on his face. "You would leave me, Redai?"

"He can do it, Hanzou-sama. Ryusando and I can defeat the Akatsuki. I can repay Pain for this." And he tore away his bandage, as a single finger pointed with deadly seriousness at the slender, deep, and gruesome canyon running across his face. It reached into his skull, black and red and white, some places open and wet, others dry and scabbed. I had nothing that compared. Neither did Hanzou. It wasn't a battle scar. It was a mark of no small torture.

The view changed something in Hanzou. He looked down, and then stepped onto the red carpet from the back of his beast. He took a deep breath.

"Very well, Ryusando. Redai. I put my life in your hands."

"Thank you." I bowed, and turned to leave, when he spoke.

"And what will you call them?"

I had given no thought to the topic. "I was never good with names." I explained.

"Pain's group are the red moons. Akatsuki. I think it would be a symbol of your strength, and the goal of your team, if you were to respond in kind. The white dawn. Shirotenpi."

I nodded. He was a leader where I could not be. It was a good name.

A perfect name.

I looked out into the night, and nodded. "Shirotenpi. Thank you, Hanzou-sama."


	10. Painful Recollections

It was three days in the scorching heat before they finally reached Sunagakure. Desert sands blew against Namita's white jacket, Ink's pale mask, and the clean black bandage over Redai's eyes. Only their leader seemed unaffected. The man from the desert didn't care about the storms, or the wind. The stern expression on his face had differed from his usual, blank stare. It told everyone a simple command. Do not speak. No one did.

One the third night, the group of four ninja could see the village of Sunagakure in the distance. There, just as it had come into view on the horizon, Ryusando stopped them.

"Now you enter my home. I will leave; I can't have a battle within the village." His eyes fixed on Namita. "There is a cave, hidden within the village wall. If you walk up the wall behind the village's headquarters, you will find the entrance. Inside, you will find Kensei, being watched over by a kunoichi. Let her go unharmed. Heal him." He pulled from his pack a letter. "Give him this. He'll tell you where to find me. _Don't _read it."

His gaze swiveled to Ink, and then quickly to Redai. "You two will accompany her. Make sure she gets to Kensei alive. If that means you have to kill someone, that's fine, but I want no civilian casualties. Once he's up, he can take care of you."

Namita watched him with an intense focus. This was the sheer, precise professionalism she had been expecting from him, though it seemed an odd replacement for the almost disjointed way in which he had led them across the desert. Something had changed, upon seeing his old home.

Then Redai, Ink, and their ward began to walk toward the village. Ryusando waited, watching, as his companions became specks beneath the village walls. Then his hands came together gently, and the desert wind carried him away.

* * *

_**Chitachi Namita**_

* * *

I walked along the streets of Sunagakure, flanked by Tohiryuu's henchmen, and I will fully admit that the first emotion I felt was disgust. Sunagakure was a village ruled by a separation between rich and poor - ninja and civilians. That was, is, and may always be; the desert was never meant to hold human life, and even the ninja of Sunagakure do not truly thrive in the accursed place.

I didn't have time to stop for the beggars, or the little children asking me to buy a newspaper or dried flowers; I had a mission that would solve a very different injustice in the world.

I followed Ryusando's directions, until I got to the cave he had described. It was small, quaint; the sort of place I hadn't expected to find in the desert. I left the other two at the entrance. Neither of them would help the procedure.

The boy was obvious, laying plainly on a pillow beneath a thin blanket on the grass. I didn't see any obvious wounds on him, but I hadn't really been expecting any. I wouldn't have been needed to bandage a cut. I was needed for something much harder.

The boy was poisoned. I didn't use Tsunade's method of _extraction-release_, and thinking back, that's probably because of pride. I knew from looking at him what Ryusando had used. Withering Lotus, a powerful neurotoxin, but not nearly as lethal as it's darker brethren. Works on injury. Infects the bloodstream, then travels to the brain, cutting off outgoing signals. The subject is left fully aware, but unable to respond in any way besides perhaps flicking their eyes. It would take a long time to treat, and several days for him to recover, but he would die within a week if I did nothing.

Ryusando had told me his name. Kensei. Grandson of the Sandaime Kazekage. An ANBU Sotaichou. A killer. I felt sorry for him. He had a dangerous Kekkei Genkai; something that I knew from his name rather than Ryusando's information on the patient. Just another thing that Ryusando had not told me. He looked so young to me, sleeping. I put a hand on his forehead, feeling the temperature. Instead, I felt knotted muscles. He was angry, probably at himself, but also focused. The last person whose forehead I had felt like that was seventy-five, and a wanted illegal weapons-dealer. He was far too young for the sort of stress Ryusando was putting on him. I had been too.

I knew he couldn't see me, so I didn't bother with a fake smile. "You're going to be fine, Kensei. This might hurt just a little bit, but I want you to try and relax."

I put my hands on Kensei's chest and let the chakra flow. Even unable to move his lips, I heard the groan. Of course it was painful - I was forcing blood into his chakra-circulatory paths. There, I could literally burn out the poison as it passed through his Celestial Gates. Yet another blessing I received from the curse of my family.

Kensei tensed, and then his eyes shot open, and he sat up. "Where is he?" He shouted, before he had even read, or recognized, my face. Then he stopped, thought for a moment, and shook his head. "Who are you? You aren't one of my…"

"Dr. Namita." I introduced, leaving out my surname on the off chance he might recognize it.

To the boy's credit, it didn't take him long to figure out what had happened. "Ryusando. Did he really come back here?"

"Why not?" I didn't know Suna that well. I didn't like the heat, and hadn't imagined coming to the desert for any other reason. Ever. I remembered something in my pocket, and pulled it out. "He wanted you to have this." It was a little piece of folded paper, with writing in black ink flaked in gold. It would be extremely expensive, and served no practical purpose; starkly in contrast with what I knew of the man who wrote it.

Before he even looked at the paper, he stared straight into my eyes. "Did you read it?"

"No." It was the honest truth, so I didn't bother getting my face to lie.

The boy took the paper and read it over slowly. Then he closed his eyes, and shook his head with a discouraged grimace. When he spoke, I was surprised. "We're leaving."

I didn't need to be told twice.

* * *

_**Satetso Kensei**_

* * *

I read the beginning of the note, immediately noting Ryusando's blunt script as the genuine article. It was, like the letter that it carried, incredibly simple, save for the strange, and seemingly useless golden flecks in the ink. I didn't ponder them too much as I began to read.

_Kensei - _

_ If you have no intention of reading this, you may stop. I won't force you to follow me._

_ I just ask that you remember before the war._

_ Regardless of what you think of me, I have two small favor to ask._

_ Take care of my friends, and tell them to meet me at the Tajiwara River Fork on the night of the next full moon._

_ You're welcome to come as well, Kensei._

_ We were friends, once. It was my fault that ended._

_ - Sunny_

I stared at the characters at the end for a while, and then I closed my eyes, remembering the name. We were little. He had that nickname, Sunny, long before he ever gained Hiton jutsu. It was something my former girlfriend came up with to describe how much more fun and carefree he was than the other Genin Sensei.

I told the Doctor to leave. I needed to think. She seemed nice, though I could tell from the way she walked that she was a ninja - and maybe a better one than me.

I thought about Ryusando, and I thought about myself. The truth was a wall had been built up between the two of us. I slowly realized that I had built it.

After the war - the Third Shinobi World War - Ryusando became obsessed with revenge. He had lost his own teacher, his Kage, the last remaining member of his family, and two of his students. All in the course of a few months. What happened afterward; I simply say that I hadn't ever expected it from him. After the last battle, and the peace treaty, I looked for him for weeks.

I didn't find him for almost two months. When he finally came back to Sunagakure, half-dead, with his hair white and the color in his eyes burnt away, I could hardly recognize him. He didn't know that Chiyo-sama and Ebizo-sama, the village elders, had wanted to make him Kazekage over Arashi. But when he didn't show up, he was declared dead, and Arashi was inaugurated. Ryusando walked in just as the man was putting on the hat. Chiyo-sama even had the gall to try and take it away from Arashi, to give it to Sensei. He didn't want it. He cut it in half. I wonder if Arashi still uses the same hat, or if they got a new one.

Arashi didn't like that, but it didn't really matter. There wasn't much he could do. Ryusando was popular with the people of Sunagakure, far more than Arashi. That probably stemmed from the fact that Ryusando hadn't adopted the belief in a ninja having a total lack of emotions. What the people of Sunagakure didn't know was that the war had changed Ryusando, in a way I could never have predicted.

He rebuilt the ANBU by hand, while I spent my time running missions as a Chunin. Simple things, to earn money. When I wasn't in the field, I was using my bloodline to fortify the village. We hardly talked - a far cry from the relationship we had before the war. When I had thought of Ryusando as I would a father.

Time passed. Years. We still didn't talk. He refused to. The only thing I remember him saying to me came in passing, in a hallway near the Kazekage's Office. I had asked him how he was doing. His response shakes me, even to this day. _"I'm almost ready." _It hurt, because I knew exactly what he meant.

There is no 'ninja rule' against revenge. No one thought their needed to be. Everyone had heard the stories of Senju Hashirama and Uchiha Madara. Everyone knew what that sort of a thing did to people. But I guess human nature can trump any amount of training. Revenge consumed the man I used to think of as a father. I felt hurt. I cried - I was young. More years passed. The tears dried up. People lost their love for Ryusando. Finally, when he made the mistake of offending a regional lord, Arashi knew that he could finally take his revenge, for the embarrassment and dishonor he had earned for playing second fiddle to Ryusando as a candidate for the title of Kazekage. It didn't matter to Arashi that Ryusando didn't want the position. It only mattered that Ryusando had been asked to take it.

Of course, at the time, I didn't know these things about Arashi. I was loyal to him because he was the Kazekage and I was a ninja. Really, that was all there was to it. I hadn't liked the man from the first time I set eyes on him, at the age of four, in my grandfather's office. But regardless of my dislike, I respected him. So when he presented me with little black scroll, tightly bound, and told me to read it privately, I _trusted _him. I trusted him over the trust I afforded the man who used to be Ryusando. And I read that scroll. I read how Ryusando had killed my grandfather, and started the Third Ninja War, in the name of ambition. I read how he had killed Sasori to eliminate the next runner up to the title that he hadn't really wanted. And I read how he had only given up on his goals in the name of vengeance.

I hadn't _thought_. I knew Ryusando better than that, but I hadn't taken the time to simply _think _about what I meant. So I hunted him. And for those weeks that I chased him, as he escaped the desert, as he recruited the Swordswoman and the Blind Man, as he killed the Mizukage, and finally, as he came for me. I didn't think about the man he used to be. I thought about the man he had become. I was blinded by the incomprehensible wave of emotions I felt from Ryusando's transformation. Betrayal. Abandonment. Scorn. Depression. That was what I assumed he had come to think of me. Those were what dominated my mind, even as my mouth lied to him, telling him that I believed the lies I had been fed. Had I simply taken the time to _think_, I would have known. Arashi was lying. Ryusando still cared; perhaps he cared even more.

Maybe it was because I really did think of him as my father, after grandpa died. He was the closest thing I ever had to a father.

When I started walking toward the village entrance, my most likely place to find Sensei, a very strange thought flowed through my mind. I let my Kekkei Genkai pull at the gold flecks in the ink of the letter. And then I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Ryusando was no longer the closest thing I had to a father.

He was the closest thing I had to a friend.

The sun was setting on Sunagakure when Kensei left his cave, but it still had a ways left to go in the sky before Konohagakure became dark. In the Hokage's offices, Kumanezumi Toi stood before a long, curved table of very old ninja.

He had respect for them, mixed with the tiniest, healthy sliver of fear. An old ninja was, by simple logic, a very powerful ninja. If you weren't powerful, you didn't have the privilege of growing old.

The Hokage, in his pointed hat, pulled his pipe out of his mouth and gestured at the blank desk space in front of him.

"You say this is something that requires confidentiality, Toi-san. What's so important?" His tone carried no audible impatience, but Toi knew that Sarutobi Hizuren, the Sandaime Hokage, didn't like to have his time wasted. Notes from the field were, by rule, recorded. The truth was that Toi simply hadn't felt like filing a report, when it was just as easy to deliver a verbal account.

"Like you asked, Hokage-same, I tracked Tohiryuu Ryusando after he killed the Mizukage. I think that he's planning to do something to Konoha." Toi began. His stance was one of slack causality, compounded by his somewhat awkward wiry strength. It contrasted the intensity with which the four village elders leaned forward, staring deeply into his cold eyes. "We can't afford a war after the Uchiha incident." A few of the elder's showed signs of wounds that were still open from Uchiha Itachi's sudden betrayal. Toi continued, unabated. "He's putting together a team of Missing-nin. A Swordsman of Kiri. Obindo Redai, a Missing-nin from Ame. Dr. Chitachi Namita of Kumo." He continued. "And he has allied himself with Hanzou of Ame."

"Hattori Hanzou. It's been a long time since we had any conflict with Amegakure." The man who spoke was the Sotaichou: Shimura Danzou, Ryusando's analogue in Konoha and head of the village's special forces and ANBU. Recent days had not been treating the man well. A cane and a bandage over nearly half his face bore testament to his situation. "Why would he act against us now?"

"If you don't believe me, that's fine." Toi muttered half-heartedly. "As well as I can tell, Ryusando tricked him. He spent the night in Hanzou's fortress, trying to make friends, or something. During the night, he killed some of Hanzou's guards. I thought he might kill Hanzou too. Instead, the next morning, he left without trouble."

"Where did he go?"

"Into the deserts of Wind Country. Probably Suna. They say he has some less-than-friendly business with the Kazekage."

Danzou smiled. "That shows my counterpart's genius." It got a few stares from the others in the room, but Danzou turned to the Hokage. "It's all a ploy. Ryusando gets 'exiled' from Sunagakure, and goes on a killing spree that he can't possibly afford, with mercenaries he can't really control. What does that tell you?"

"That Hanzou is funding him." Toi answered.

"Before the Mizukage died? No. This is Arashi's plan. He and Ryusando get to deal with their opponents one by one, easily. Ryusando is too elusive to kill without risk, and Sunagakure remains… uninvolved."

"I don't think their situation is quite that tricky." Toi responded. "He didn't exactly go back to Sunagakure on the best of terms."

"Why didn't you follow him?" Danzou asked, in a patronizing tone.

Toi's eyes narrowed to match the one-eyed gaze of the ANBU leader across the table. "I might not look it, Danzou-_san_" he added the honorific out of scorn. ", and you certainly don't, but I've got half a brain. Tracking Ryusando is dangerous, and I'm not about to get myself killed over an unimportant mission."

Danzou pushed off his cane, rising to his feet. "You think this is unimportant? You yourself called this meeting. You told us he was a threat to Konoha. Use your jutsu, Toi, like the ninja you are. And if you die for Konoha, you'll be a better Shinobi than you are now." With a crack of his cane on the ground, Danzou sat again. He seemed to think the conversation was over.

It wasn't. "I don't use crazy explosions or magic eyes." Toi responded, his voice soft but slowly building. "I don't summon giant monsters or control the dead. I can't give you nightmares worse than anything you can imagine. I'm just smart, and simple, and efficient. I _know _that I can't hide from Ryusando in the desert, on his turf. And, really, neither could you."

Danzou didn't say anything. His silence might have come from self-control, but more likely stemmed from sheer awe at Toi's audacity. For the Jonin, it was just another day making reports.

"What do you propose we do?" The Hokage asked.

"I'll keep an eye on him. Let ya' know if anything's going on."

"We can provide you with a team."

Toi started to shake his head 'no', and almost immediately stopped. A slow smile broke over his face. "Yeah, actually, I could do that."

"Koharu-san". The old woman on the Hokage's left nodded slightly. "Get Toi an Inuzuka tracker, a Hyuuga, and an interrogation specialist. An Inuzuka might be a good choice."

"No." Everyone looked up from Toi's single word. "I don't want professionals."

"What are you talking about, Kumanezumi?" Danzou grumbled. "What other kind of ninja…?"

The field-ninja cut his superior off mid-sentence. "Do we still have the academy advancement program?"

"…yes." Sarutobi noted after a moment's hesitation. "But we haven't used it in nearly eight years, and I'm not sure we should start it up again."

"I'll take a kid. Someone who doesn't have a lot of family training behind them. No big clans either. I don't want the Uchiha boy, for one thing. I'll pass on Namikaze too." Before anyone had a chance for another word, Toi stuck his hands in his pockets and started walking toward the door. "You can send the kid to my place when you've got one picked out. I'd like to start training soon."

The door swung shut.

"Why did you hesitate, Hokage-sama?" Utatane Koharu, one of the Village Council elders, asked of her former squad mate.

"The last student we moved up with that program was Uchiha Itachi." Sarutobi explained.

* * *

_**Tohiryuu Ryusando**_

* * *

I left the desert without wasting time. My jutsu carried me to the edge of the dunes, where the 'lesser' desert began. The badlands. I had nearly made it there the last time I left Sunagakure, without resorting to Ninjutsu. I didn't have the luxury, with Arashi turning the desert against me.

I knew my way around the badlands, to the small villages that populated the fertile, farmable ring surrounding my country's famous desert. I traveled quickly, and lightly. Just a pack of supplies and the swords Hanzou had given me weighed me down. They were trifling concerns.

I crossed into River Country, and followed the water for some time. The journey was calming, and it gave me time to think. I thought about Kensei. I thought about Ink and Namita. I thought about Redai. I thought about Pain. I thought about Konan.

By the time I was done with those thoughts, night had fallen. I was nearly to my destination, a small mountain on the border of the River, Rain, and Fire Countries, so I pressed on.

My feet knew the path better than my mind. That was fortunate for me, as my mind was occupied by specters of my past. I was standing on one of the bloodiest battlefields of the Third Shinobi War.

The Battle of Kajuen no Aoihana, a poor translation of the old tongue for 'the Fields of the Blue Petals'.

People stayed away. The civilians who lived nearby claimed the fields were haunted. For me, the ghosts were true.

I remembered fighting in this battle. I was not afraid. _Afraid_ does not describe my fear. I was terrified on that battlefield, in a way that few can ever experience.

Because I was the Sensei to a Genin Team, assigned to Scouting duty. I was entrusted with the care of three young lives that should _not _have been on the battlefield.

And I knew we would lose, going in. Some might ask why I went, and I can only answer them with this: not all competitions in life are about winning. Sometimes, it's just about playing the game.

Sunagakure had been nearly within Konoha's walls when they unleashed their ultimate weapon. I was there, at the Battle of Sabishii Forest. The first time we lost. Sasori was leading the strike team, to capture Sarutobi and proclaim victory. He lost almost sixty hand-crafted puppets in fourteen seconds of combat.

We were driven back. We fought all the way, not realizing that we were being outmaneuvered. Not realizing how quickly we were dying. We lost half our men at the Battle of the Tanzaku Marshes, and another half at Madara's Ravine. Meanwhile, Konoha's ANBU had passed us, and were waiting on Mount Shiragana. They swept down from behind when we reached the Field of Blue Petals. We were trapped.

I ended up in a fight far out of my class. Kensei saved my life, for the little good it did.

I woke up on the mountain, wrapped in new bandages. A young girl, about Kensei's age at the time - twelve or thirteen - was taking care of me. She told me the truth; the horrible, brutal truth.

Sasori had disappeared, assumed dead. In his absence, Arashi had declared himself Kazekage, and surrendered to save the few ninja Suna had left. I didn't care about any of the things the little girl told me, because I could see what she was leading up to.

On an outcropping, overlooking a sheer rocky cliff on Mount Shiragana, there is a Sakura tree which is always in bloom. Its petals, blue and pink together, fall in the gentle winds atop the mountain, decorating the ground below them. This ground is always comfortable to sit on; the grass and the petals leave on feeling as if they are sitting on a blanket. From this place, one can see an incredible view of the valley, and the orchards below. Yet I can never feel happy at this place, nor anywhere else. Because on this ground, there stand two monuments; blocks of solid white jade that stare off the cliff and down upon the beauty of the Field of Blue Petals.

These blocks of jade are a testament to my failure. Grave markers for children stripped down in their prime. A little boy, and a little girl.

My students.

As I walked more recently between the trees, surrounded by the falling blossoms of the Eternal Sakura trees, I heard a rather startling, familiar voice.

"Ryu!" Then came the scampering of young feet, a sort of laughing giggle, and a jump. The girl had nearly tackled me with her enthusiastic embrace. I grudgingly accepted the gesture.

"Hello again, Mimic." It was a cold greeting, like most that I offered in those days. That name, Mimic, was the only one I had known her by for the seven years that I had known her.

"Did you bring me anything?" She asked.

"I need to see Sensei first." I told her bluntly.

"Aww, but Ryu…"

I looked straight into her eyes, and she looked into mine. I could see that she was afraid of my blank, white glare, but my most important business was not with her. I pulled myself away from her and began walking toward the mountain again. Without any hesitation, my sister followed me.

She was twenty, or something similar. Dark hair. Average height. There wasn't much more to say.

The mountain loomed over me, and I stepped into its shadow. The light breeze was cool, and touching. It was like returning to the place of my youth; a feeling I had never associated with Sunagakure.

I had reached the base of the rough path that carved its way up the side of the mountain when she spoke again. "Want some food?"

I hadn't eaten, and there wasn't any point trying to hide the 'weakness' of physical desire in front of her. "Yes, Mimic."

She fumbled with a pouch on her belt, nearly ripping her rough gray pants as she moved. Something inside me wanted to laugh, just a little. The human capacity for a total lack of coordination was something I tended to forget about in the presence of other ninja. Then I shook my head. No humor.

She handed me a piece of brittle bread. As it took it from her hand, it felt warm. When I put it in my mouth, it wasn't cold, probably stale bread at all. It was a warm, sweet bun, filled with seasoned pork.

"Too sweet." I told her honestly.

She seemed disappointed that her unique talent hadn't pleased me. "You're never happy, are you, Ryu?"

I again forced myself to overlook the nickname, and smiled what I knew to be an utterly false display of happiness. "Thank you, Mimic."

She shook her head, with an awkward smile of her own on her lips. "It's good to see you again, you know. You could drop by every once in a while."

I nodded, as I continued up the mountain trail. There was one more old acquaintance I had to meet again.

* * *

At _Ebida's Garden_, in the heart of Sunagakure's crowded market-street, two ninja leaned forward over a smooth wooden countertop. It was too hot to move. The larger of the two stared at a plate of nearly untouched soba noodles, as she clutched a sweating glass of ice-water in her hand. It had cost an arm and a leg, but ice was a luxury in the desert.

Her companion had wrapped his fingers around an off-white ceramic vessel. He sipped it gently, and then placed a handful of bills and metal coins on the counter.

"You're drunk, sir." The woman behind the counter. "Shame, seeing as it's only noon."

The man looked slightly irritated for a moment, behind the bandage over his eyes. "So… what's your name…"

"Ebida." The woman answered him. "Says it right on the sign."

Obindo Redai laughed, and then tapped his temple, in the center of the cloth that dominated his features. "Have a little bit of a problem with signs, if you can't tell. Anyways, Ebida, I'm not drunk."

"Then why the hell did you just tip-"

"Now hold on," Redai interrupted, holding a finger up at her in a request for silence, as he upended his drink. "What I _am _is generous, which is far worse. And since I'm also clearly an idiot, it means that today, you get to go home knowing that a completely sober man paid you a month's rent to get one shitty drink. That way you don't feel guilty. Now go put that away before someone decides to mug you."

The woman looked rather disappointed for a moment, and then she pocketed the money and dashed off; regardless of who it came from, a ryo taken was a ryo earned.

Ink looked over from her seat beside him, and took a long slow draw from her glass of pure ice water. "Why the hell did you give her that much? I thought you were all about money."

"I'm not some greedy bastard, Ink. It isn't money for money's sake. It's about pleasure. How many ninja can you say are really happy with their lives? How many people, for that matter?"

Ink nodded, and took another drink. "I see."

"Nobody. That's who." Redai continued. "No one from a Genin to the damn Sage of Six Paths. Well, one morning, I woke up and decided that was bullshit. So I decided I'd live to make myself happy, and maybe some other lucky people along the way. Speaking of which, care for a drink?"

"And that's why you're with Ryusando? For the satisfaction of helping others?" A tone of skepticism was present in Ink's voice.

"Well, that's one benefit. Another is that I get to use my talent, rather than wasting it playing delivery boy and pretending to be a politician on B-Rank missions."

Ink let out a sort of scoffing noise. "You should have come to Kiri, then. You'd have liked it."

"I also like sleeping through the night without risking getting my throat slit." He laughed, and raised a drink. "Though I'd make an exception for you, Ink."

She grunted in response.

"Ryusando's rubbing off on you already? Just as well, I guess. I didn't actually give her any money; they were wooden coins I transformed with a shuriken transformation trick."

"You're a bastard, Redai."

"It's what I do best."

Ink put a few of her noodles into her mouth, and then turned to shook her head. "Where did you meet Ryusando?"

The blind ninja gestured blindly in a seemingly random direction, not even bothering to turn. "About ten miles that way."

"Bullshit."

"I'm serious. It was the day he got thrown out of this oven."

"And you just happened to be there?"

"I was… looking for him."

Ink took a slow sip of her water, as the condensation slipped between her fingers. Her eyes were closed, as her mind focused. Then a slight smile broke across her face, revealing some subtle humor, as well as a pair of sparkling, inhuman fangs that served as a testament to her past. "You must have been the only person in the whole world who wanted to find him, but didn't want to kill him."

"So he's lucky."

"I don't think so." Ink's next swallow included a single cube of ice, which she crushed much like a vise might snap a bone. It's cracking punctuated the otherwise quiet, thick, stuffy Sunagakure air. "You're good, Redai. Better than any 'mercenary' I've ever heard of, and a lot better than some tailor hiding out in Amegakure."

"If the shoe fits…" Redai slapped the table, and then stood up. "…then we have company."

Ink turned, expecting that he had cut off the conversation because of a desire for secrecy. She shook her head in surprise and forced herself to adjust her thoughts.. Behind the two ninja were no fewer than fourteen Sunagakure ninja, led by an elderly kunoichi who stood barely above the height of Ink's waist. The Swordsman reached for her sword, but Redai's outstretched hand stopped her.

"What is it?" The blindfolded shinobi asked.

"The Kazekage has invited you to dinner."

Redai turned, grinning like a little boy. Ink glared, and then pulled her blank white mask over her face. "What's so funny, Redai?"

"Ink, can we call this a date?"

Were it not for the rather large and dangerous group before them, Ink reflected, she might have killed him on the spot.


End file.
